Extenuating Circumstances
by TappinCastlefan
Summary: It was the summer of 1970. Who would have known that that one summer would touch so many lives one day? Martha would. Story's better than the summary.
1. Introductions

**So I've been playing around with the idea of Rick's father and I came up with this. If you recognize anything, it's not mine. **

**Enjoy!**

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_**June 1, 1970**_

The faint murmur of the audience could be heard backstage. It certainly sounded like a full house, but after all it was the first Tuesday of the first month in the summer season – the opening night to top all opening nights. The wings were abuzz with the rush of stagehands making final adjustments to the sets, actors and actresses running to their places, and of course, the director calling orders to those who for whatever reason could not read his mind. And yet, one actress was absent.

Nineteen year-old Martha Rogers was pacing her dressing room. This was the first major role she had landed…and it was the lead. She was only nineteen and was playing the lead in a Broadway production! She still couldn't believe it was happening.

Her pacing was interrupted when the door opened and a stagehand poked his head in.

"On stage in five Miss Rogers."

"Thank you, Peter. I'll only be a second more. Just need to uh…collect my thoughts." The young actress was so nervous that she hardly even noticed him leave the room.

_Well kiddo_, she could hear her mother saying, _go make me proud_. It seemed like only yesterday that she had said goodbye to her parents at the train station, when in reality it had been ten months ago. Her dream had always been to be a star on Broadway, and now it was coming true.

Slowly Martha made her way to the stage, determined to make her mother proud. As she approached her mark on the stage – center stage – a silence fell over the audience. She glanced over to her director, who then gave a cue to the conductor. The overture began to play, and the curtain parted.

Before she knew it the first act was over and she was walking back to her dressing room. Her dresser, Judy, walked beside her, whispering words of encouragement. Since Martha had joined the company the two had become very close. Neither had ever had a sister, so the bond formed almost instantly.

"Really Martha, that was fantastic! Possibly the best performance I've ever seen you give."

"Are you sure? I missed some of my lines and kept tripping over that damn chair!"

"Relax. It was wonderful. The audience couldn't take their eyes off of you."

"Thanks…" Martha concluded with a nervous smile. The pair was just about to reach the dressing room when they stopped at the sight of a man coming out.

And what a man he was. He was tall with a very stately appearance. He carried himself with pride, but not with arrogance. Light brown, almost blond, hair swept over his ears, and much to the ladies' dismay, his eyes were concealed by the shadows. The two leaned around the corner of a beam, only to see him swiftly making his way towards the stage exit. With a shared look of intrigue, they bolted to reach the door handle.

Judy reached it first. She jerked the door opened, her mouth dropping at the sight in front of her.

"Martha…apparently I'm not the only one who loved your performance."

Martha peered around her friend's shoulder and laid her eyes on what must have been five-dozen pink roses. "Is there a card?" The two began hunting through the bouquets, finally stumbling on a cream-colored card with gold trim.

_The stage is only lit by your beauty._

_ES_

"Who is this guy?" Martha snapped.

"I don't know, but you need to change and get your butt back on stage!"

With a flurry of fabric and makeup Martha was ready. She resumed her place on stage, with her friend guarding her dressing room door, just in case.

The second act moved just as quickly as the first. The curtain was closed and the sets were removed. The entire cast lined up for the curtain call, Martha in the back. The velvet curtain was once again pulled up and the actors slowly shifted downstage as they took their final bows. Finally, it was her turn. She gracefully stepped to the front of the stage. A spotlight focused on the girl as she curtsied gracefully to thank the audience. She slowly regained her stance and found that the entire house was on its feet.

Well, all except for one. It was him. Her mystery fan. He was the lone person in sight who was still seated. Of course, his seat was front row, center, and he sat there with a simple smile on his face. Their eyes met, and for a moment they were the only two in the theatre. And all too soon the house lights went up and a crowd blocked their views.

A hand grabbed Martha's arm and began to pull her offstage. She could hear Judy shouting over all the commotion.

"Come on! You have to change."

"But, uh," Martha was struggling to find her voice as she pointed to the once-occupied seat, "he was just there!"

* * *

Minutes later a very anxious Martha was exiting the theatre. She opened the door to the alleyway and found him standing before her, leaning against the building as if it was the most natural thing to be doing.

"Well. Martha Rogers." He paused and turned to look at her. "May I say you were positively enchanting this evening."

His British accent caught her off guard. Judging from the roses and the card she was prepared for a sophisticated man, but she had been from a small town where everyone knew everyone else. Until she came to New York she had never met anyone from another state, let alone another country. And the accent was melodic, almost hypnotizing.

She carefully maneuvered herself out of the doorway. "Thank…you? I'm sorry, but who exactly are you?" She couldn't help but find herself lost in his eyes. He had the most beautiful eyes. They were the bluest she had ever seen, and seemed to pull her closer than she already was – and there were only mere inches separating them.

"So sorry." He held out his hand to her. "I'm Edward Samuels." She reached out to shake his hand, but he had taken a firm grasp and lifted it to his lips. His touch burned through her skin. "Not to be forward, but would you grant me the pleasure of joining me for dinner? I'm sure you must have an appetite after such a wonderful performance."

Martha was at a loss for what to do. She spent a good portion of her life chasing boys, she had never had one come after her. This was a new situation. One that she found she liked.

She smiled. Yes, she thought, she would go out with this man. Aesthetically, he was a god, and he seemed to truly admire her. So why not? What could happen?

"Yes." She whispered.

"Fantastic!" He exclaimed clapping his hands together. He quickly took her belongings from her and guided her to a car waiting on the curb. "I know exactly where to take you. You'll absolutely love it!"

He was right. They had eaten at Le Bernardin – perhaps the most upscale restaurant in the city, certainly the fanciest Martha had ever seen. He saw to it that she got everything she could possibly want. The two began to share more about themselves. Martha told Edward about her dream to act, and he told her that he was in town for the summer from England, dealing with personal matters.

The evening ended when he walked her up to her small apartment.

"Thank you, Edward, for a lovely night. And, I'm glad you enjoyed the show. But I have to ask…how did you possible manage to get five dozen roses into my room so quickly?"

A smile played across his face. "Why don't we just say that I know a guy?"

"Seriously?" She rolled her eyes at him. "You know a guy?"

"Yes. I have my resources." The two began to giggle like teenagers.

"Well thank you again. That was very generous of you."

"Nonsense. I told you earlier my dear, you are enchanting." Gently he took her hands in his and lifted them to his face, giving each hand a peck. "I have a feeling I will be seeing much more of you." Without warning he leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss, and turned to walk away, leaving Martha speechless.

* * *

Sure enough, he made an appearance at her show the following night, and every night after that. After each show Martha would return to her dressing room to find varying arrangements of flowers, all with accompanying notes.

After about a week he started waiting for her outside the stage door. He would casually offer her a meal, which she always excepted, and those meals resulted in a friendship, which soon blossomed into a romance.

Soon it became rare for one of them to be seen alone. During the day Martha would attend rehearsals, and Edward would attend to his business – whatever it was – but every night, there he was, front row center. Her number one fan. They would leave the theatre together and more often than not, Martha woke up beside him in his suite at the Plaza. They were in love.

But June turned to July, and July lead to August. The summer was nearly over.

* * *

Unfortunately, the air conditioning in the theatre had broken sometime in July, and there was very little money around to repair it. The entire cast was now warily pushing through rehearsals, despite the August heat, and Martha soon found it a struggle to keep awake during breaks. Judy was beginning to worry about her friend.

"Are you sure you're alright? I've never seen you this tired before."

"Yea, I don't feel any different. Maybe I should just start getting more sleep."

"Oh yes! Because you've been having so much fun with your British beau!"

Martha rolled her eyes and returned to downing her fifth bottle of water that day.

"I don't know, maybe I should get checked out. I mean, I really haven't been to a doctor at all since I've been here."

"Are you kidding? That's like…a year already! Do you need me to drive you?"

"No, no, no, I can take care of it." Lazily she stood from the theatre chair she had sprawled across. "But right now I need to get back on stage."

* * *

The news had shocked her. She was only nineteen years old – she couldn't be having a baby. But it was a baby with Edward – a man who she had come to love with all her heart. A man who loved her back. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she was smiling.

This was a good thing, she told herself. They would be happy together. She would tell him tonight over dinner, after the show of course.

That night he hadn't come to the show. Instead, he sent her flowers…and a note:

_Sorry to have missed you this evening.  
I'm sure you were spectacular.  
Come to my place when you're through._

_Eddie_

Martha quickly changed and left without even saying goodnight to her friends. She was anxious to meet him.

As she approached the door to the suite she began to pick up her pace. With a smile plastered on her face she knocked on the door. Within seconds the knob turned and the door opened to show Edward staring at her solemnly.

"Eddie?" She questioned, cocking her head. "What on Earth is the matter?"

He reached his arm around her shoulders and ushered her in. "Come in. We need to talk." Martha could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"Well darling I have something to talk to you about too." She subconsciously engaged her acting skills, pretending like nothing was wrong. Although something clearly was.

Edward gestured for her to take a seat on the couch. He began to pace back and forth in front of her. She could tell something really was frustrating him. He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a sigh before turning to face her.

"I have to leave."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Leave? What do you mean?"

"I…uh, need to leave New York, go back to England."

"What? Why? Eddie, this doesn't make any sense."

He quickly moved to sit at her side. With shaky hand he reached out and caressed her cheek. "There's something I never told you about me."

"Whatever it is, you know you can tell me." Martha reached out and took his hands in hers, placing them on her knees. "I'm a big girl."

"This whole time I've been here, I've been trying to work things out with my family. I'm – engaged."

Martha pulled back. She had begun to shake as well. "You're engaged…" Her voice was distant, almost inaudible.

"Yes. It was…arranged, when I was young, and I've been trying to maneuver my way out of it for months. But my father told me that if I didn't return, that I would be cut off, and I wouldn't be able to support myself, or you." He stood again and moved to lean against the wall opposite the couch. "I can't do this anymore Martha; you would only be worse off."

Martha's anger was beginning to surface. "Why didn't you tell me two months ago? I wouldn't have let myself get attached. I wouldn't have let myself…fall in love with you! I wouldn't have let…this happen!"

He raced back to her and put his hands on her arms. "Exactly! I know that. I love you so much, Martha, and I hate myself for letting it come so far!"

"No Edward," she couldn't even bring herself to call him 'Eddie' right now – a name she had so playfully used before, "you have no idea how far we've come." She backed away from his grasp, staring him right in the eyes as he began to lose his composure. "I'm pregnant Edward, and you know what?" By now she had reached the door, one hand was on the knob - she didn't even look at him. "We don't need you."

She pulled the door open and turned around to see him staring at her. "Goodbye Edward."

That was the last time she saw him.

* * *

_**April 1, 1971**_

The room was quiet. The only sound Martha could hear was the faint breathing of the baby in the crib beside her bed. Now she was lying with her eyes shut, barely awake, thinking about everything that had happened.

Unfortunately, she was forced to take leave of the stage due to her pregnancy, but the director had generously allowed her to stay as a consultant, with pay, considering the circumstances. However, her lack of work made her bored, and she spent many hours contemplating her situation.

She wrote to her parents to tell them the news – leaving out some details regarding the father – and they offered to come out to help. Martha declined the offer. She was going to do this on her own. She could be a mother and still follow her dream.

Sure, her plan had to change a bit, but she decided that she would teach her son to follow his dreams. He could be whatever he wanted to be. And she was going to make sure he knew that.

Her eyes drifted back towards the sleeping bundle. He was only a few hours old but she loved him already. More than anyone she loved before. She couldn't help but fear that someone was going to jump out at any moment and tell her it was all a joke – that he wasn't really hers. Today was, after all, April Fools' Day. But there he was. He was beautiful. He was hers. Her Richard.

She looked down at the tray in front of her. On it was a sheet of stationary and a pen. There were many times during the past months that she considered writing, but she never had. It just seemed more appropriate to do it today.

With a firm grip Martha picked up the pen and began to write.

* * *

**I know it's a bit of a cliffhanger, but I wanted to make sure there was some interest in it before I kept going. The next chapter would obviously open with the letter. So what do you think?? Should I keep going? **

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Explanations

**So sorry this upload has taken so long! I finally figured out how I was going to set it up! **

**I don't own Castle - :-(**

**Enjoy!!**

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_**April 1, 1971 **_

As soon as the pen touched the page Martha realized that she had no idea what to say to him. What to you tell the man who lied to you for an entire summer? Who made you believe he loved you? Who fathered your child?

She noticed that her stalling had caused a rather large pool of ink on the paper – a sign that she needed to suck it up and just write what she was thinking. The stained sheet was thus removed from the tray, and replaced with a fresh one.

A fresh sheet of paper.

A fresh start.

_Dear Edward,_

_I should take this opportunity to tell you how much you've hurt me. I should tell you about the nights I spent telling myself that it wasn't true - that you were still here. I should tell you how sorry I felt, for myself, about what I let happen._

_But that isn't why I'm writing to you. _

_The purpose of this letter is to inform you that today, April 1, 1971, your son was born. Congratulations._

_And you know what Edward? I'm not sorry anymore. I'm sitting here next to the most beautiful boy in the world and quite honestly I couldn't be happier. _

_When he was first born, six hours ago, I thought he was going to die. He was so tiny, and so pale. He didn't cry for a few minutes. It felt like hours to me. But he's a fighter Edward. This is a boy who will be something. His name is Richard. It means powerful, and he is. Once he got started, he screamed for a good half an hour before I could calm him down. _

_You need to know that I'm giving him his own last name. He shouldn't have to grow up and be defined by either you or me, and what happened between us. He'll build his own life, his own world, his own fortress against everything wrong with the world. _

_So be happy Edward. You're a father. _

_Martha_

_PS – I do not want, nor do I need any help with this. He is my son and I plan to raise him well. And don't feel guilty, I have a fresh start. _

Sighing, Martha folded the letter and placed it in an envelope, sealed it, and wrote down the address she had bribed the manager at the Plaza for.

She glanced over at her son again to find him sleeping peacefully. That would probably be a good thing for her to try too.

Martha leaned back into the bed and gently closed her eyes. Yes. He was going to be something someday.

He was her son. Richard E. Castle.

* * *

_**May 27, 1978 (Martha 26, Richard 7)**_

"Are we almost there?" Richard whined.

"Yes love, we'll be there soon."

Martha stood from her seat in their compartment and took down her handbag from the overhead shelf. Rummaging through it she tossed aside a pile of notes and sheet music, a box of crayons, and a toy truck, before finding what she was looking for.

Without bothering to clean up the new mess she had made she turned to find her son gazing longingly out the window. She hated seeing him so bored and unhappy - but acting was the only thing she knew how to do. So, this was how they lived. At least for the summer - next month they would return to New York and Richard would go back to school. Back to a normal life. Or at least their own modified version of "normal".

"Here Richard." She said as she pulled him onto her lap. He leaned his head against her shoulder and she could practically feel his exhaustion setting in.

"See that building there?" She pointed out the train's window at the upcoming Chicago skyline. "Way out in the distance?"

"Yea, what is it?" He reached for his book as he asked.

"That's called the Sears Tower. And it's the tallest building in the world!"

"Really?"

She turned him around on her lap. Sure he was rather small for his age, but boy was he smart. One day he was going to ask her questions that she wouldn't have the answers to.

"Yes, really! I'm your mother, would I lie to you?"

Richard giggled as she began to tickle his sides. "No! No! Stop! Please!"

The laughter in the room was quickly silenced when the passenger in the next compartment, a middle-aged, bald businessman, banged on their door. "Miss, could you please keep it down in here? I am trying to get some work done."

Richard leaned over, cupping Martha's ear in his hand, and whispered something that got them laughing again. Not only was he smart, but he was incredibly witty. He could crack a joke at the drop of a hat.

The man huffed off. But not before putting in his two cents. "For god's sake, a boy should have a father to keep him in line."

Luckily by the time the man made his comment Richard had begun reading and was already sucked into the details of Huckleberry Finn's adventures. Martha merely rolled her eyes as she moved her son off of her lap and began to reorganize the various items strewn about the compartment.

Richard didn't need a father. He had her. And they were perfect together.

* * *

_**November 24, 1986 (Martha 35, Richard 15)**_

It was six o'clock in the evening on Thanksgiving Day and Richard Castle was alone in their New York apartment. He was laying on his back starting into space. The sound of the television could be heard in the background; books, notebooks, and various food products were scattered over the living room floor. He had spent the day watching television, opting not to do his schoolwork. After all, he had read Macbeth twice already (first when he was eleven), and he just didn't care about chemistry or geometry – he was going to be a novelist. All those obnoxious characters and ridiculous plotlines of daytime television, particularly One Live to Live, had given him excellent ideas of how to kill people.

The sound of a key turning in the lock alerted him that his mother had finally returned from her rehearsal. She was always rehearsing, performing, partying, or something. Laughter could be heard coming from the small kitchen as she and her "guest" came in.

"Oh Richard! What are you doing home?" Martha asked. Her light tone told him that she had probably been somewhere other than the theatre. And the man standing behind her was clearly hoping they could continue their "rehearsal".

"Don't you have school today?"

"No Mother." Richard replied in a dry voice. "It's Thanksgiving. No school. And it's six o'clock anyway."

The man behind his mother looked surprised. He was fairly tall, with dark brown curls down to his ears. He was at least five years younger than Martha, but she had probably lied to him about her age. For what it's worth she really didn't look like a mother in her thirties.

"Oh! Well, isn't that nice."

Richard knew that he would be better off if he didn't try to start an argument. "Yes Mother," was his bland reply, he couldn't help but add a hit of sarcasm to his comment. That was what he did best.

Martha gestured to her son, who was still sprawled across the floor. "Brian, this is my son Richard. Richard this is Brian. He works the set for my new show." The two simply nodded to each other. Richard was all too used to these awkward introductions.

"I'll be fine here if you two had other plans." He stated bluntly.

"Oh well I don't want to leave you here like that. Brian," she turned, placing her hand on his chest, "you don't mind if we eat in tonight do you? It is Thanksgiving."

The man nervously rubbed the back of his head, diverting his gaze to a scuff on his left shoe. "Um, actually Martha, I should really head home. I mean, I would love to join you, but, it's a holiday so I need to check in on my mother. She lives alone, so she'd probably enjoy the company." Dropping her hand to her side, Martha looked to her son, who was watching the pair with intense concentration. "Alright then, if you're sure. Let me see you out." Without hesitation she reached across to his shoulder and led him to the door.

Richard could hear Brian whispering to his mother. "Maybe some other time?"

"Sure Brian," she replied with a sigh, "we'll see." The door was closed and Martha returned to the living room, flopping herself down on the tiny couch. She looked disappointed. Upset that she brought a man into her son's life unannounced.

Richard had this way of reading people. He knew exactly what his mother was thinking. And he could tell from the minute that Brian walked in the door that he was expecting a fun evening. Not a teenage boy. And his story about visiting his mother? Please. He was lying through his teeth. Neither adult even knew about the holiday until he mentioned it himself.

"Mother, why don't you go take a bath or something. I can order us dinner. Chinese?" Martha looked up at his hopeful face and smiled. For a kid who was consistently defying teachers, skipping assignments, and mouthing off, he sure knew the right time to turn on the charm.

Reaching out, she stood and hugged him. "That sounds wonderful Richard. What would I do without you?"

"Well for one thing you would actually have to mix your own drinks." Martha simply rolled her eyes giving him a playful smack. He simply grinned as she walked off to the bathroom.

Richard loved his mother. He really did. Despite her odd hours, the moving, the nannies, and their…odd relationship. It was the men that he couldn't stand. He hated the way they treated her. True, she was a full grown woman and could lead her own life, but men were almost bipolar when he came into the picture.

From a distance he would watch men flirt with her, joke with her. She was always happy around them. They made her laugh.

But the moment that one found out she had a son he would run. Away from him. Away from her. And she'd be upset – for a little while. Just like tonight. It always made him feel guilty. She had to put her love life on the back burner because of him.

He was no idiot. Richard had always known that they lived the way they did because of his father. Something had happened between the two of them that made her leave. He knew the ending, but not the beginning. Sometimes he would ask his mother about his father, praying that she'd give him just a taste of who he was. But she never gave him a straight answer. Whatever had happened hurt her too much to talk about it.

So, he would be the perfect son. Well, most of the time. He would make their dinner; do her shopping, whatever she wanted. He did everything he could to make her smile, because she was his mother. The only person in his life who really cared about him.

* * *

_**April 1, 1987 (Martha 35, Richard 16) **_

Martha Rodgers was sitting in a cold, hard chair at the New York Department of Motor Vehicles. Today she was taking Richard to get his learner's permit to drive. He was sitting beside her, nawing away at his thumbnail and shaking his leg like a dog.

Martha knew that he really wanted to learn to drive. And she really wanted it for him. He had practically begged her to take him for his permit on his exact birthday. She had no problem agreeing because, aside from the stories he wrote, she had never seen him care so much about something. They had even decided that they would try and save up enough money so that he could buy a used car by the time he got his actual license.

"Is there a Richard Castle?"

He practically jumped at the sound of his name. In an attempt to relax him Martha stretched over and gave him a pat on the knee.

"Hey there," she said looking into his nervous face, "relax. You'll be fine." He gave her a smile and walked over to where the test administrator was standing.

"It'll be about a half an hour ma'am." Martha nodded her head in agreement. That would give her enough time to take care of everything. She reached into her purse and pulled out a leather notebook and a pen, and settled as much as she could into the chair. She hadn't done this in about four years – and she was at a bit of a loss for words.

_Dear Edward_,

_When I decided to write you this year I found myself confused as to what I wanted to tell you. So, as usual, I'll just start by telling you about Richard. In case you haven't been keeping track he's sixteen today._

_Since I wrote you four years ago he has grown so much. He is almost taller than me. But he has these broad shoulders and he's surprisingly strong, considering he was such a small child. About a year ago he decided to grow his hair down to his shoulders, but finally agreed to cut it two months ago. Trust me, it looks better short. His hair is actually about the same color as yours if I remember correctly. _

_When he wants to be he's a fantastic student. It's not that he isn't intelligent enough; it's that he's too intelligent. He started reading Shakespeare when he was eight, after seeing a performance of Julius Caesar that I took him to. I think he believes that he doesn't need to listen to his teachers because he knows more than them. _

_He's also taken an interest in writing. It started, a year ago, I guess. He came out of his room one day and handed me a stack of paper and told me to read it. It was a murder story about a bridesmaid killed the night before the wedding. The plot was so precise and detailed that I was almost concerned he was a killer. Since then he spends nearly every spare moment writing. _

_I admit that years ago I said I didn't need your help. For the most part that is still true. However, I am asking you now to do just one thing for your son. As I've told you before, he is quite smart. He knows that his father exists somewhere and asks me questions from time to time, but I don't know how to explain to him what the situation was. I don't even know what your situation is now. So, please. Write and explain to Richard. He deserves to know about his father, and I don't know enough to tell him. _

_Martha_

Like she had done so many times before, Martha folded the letter and put it in an envelope. She peeled out a stamp to put in the corner, and wrote their address on it. She even knew his address by heart.

Just as she finished writing she heard Richard running down the hall towards her. Anxious to hear the news she stood from the chair, juggling her bag between hands.

"Mom! Mom! I did it! I got my permit!" He barreled into her nearly knocking her over.

"That's fantastic Richard!" She grabbed his shoulders and saw the happiness in his eyes. "Now, why don't we go celebrate? Anywhere you want to eat. Then we'll go find a parking lot somewhere and see what you can do."

"Awesome!" He bent down to help her pick up her purse when he saw an envelope peeking out of her notebook. "Mother? What's that? I thought we took care of all the bills the other day?"

"Oh that? It's nothing. Just a letter to an old friend. No one you know." She linked her arm in his and the two proudly walked out of the DMV.

Ever so discreetly, Martha slipped the letter into the mailbox they walked by, hoping that soon Richard would get an explanation.

The explanation never came.

* * *

**Let me know what you think! Thank you to everyone who's been reading and reviewing! I appreciate it!**

**And about Rick's middle name - it was in 'Wrapped Up In Death', and I found out what it was. After much deliberation I refrained from putting it in the story in case there were readers who wanted to hunt for themselves. But if anyone wants to know, feel free to ask!**

**So excited for tonight's episode!**


	3. Milestones

**After days of endless schoolwork I was finally able to write again! I hope you like the update! I went around and around before I decided what to include. **

**Sadly - it belongs to ABC, not me. **

**Enjoy!**

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_**June 6, 1989 (Martha 38, Richard 18)**_

The reality of the day hadn't quite sunken in yet. Sure she had known this day was coming for quite some time now, prepared as much as she could. But it still didn't make it any easier.

Now she was sitting in an auditorium filled with happy families. Teary-eyed mothers, proud fathers, and of course the many siblings. All were anxiously waiting to hear one name among hundreds.

Martha never thought she'd be here. At her son's graduation. First of all, she had never planned on having a son at all. But now…well, now she couldn't imagine her life without him. There were so many memories.

She remembered the day he said his first word.

_She was working on a particularly frustrating production in the middle of one of the coldest winters she could remember. Seeing as she was a twenty-year old single mother, she had no choice but to bring him to the theatre with her, and that day she had left him sleeping in her dressing room before heading out to the stage, as she had done so many times before. _

_After hours of grueling criticism and instruction her director finally allowed her to take a break – if for no other reason than that a stagehand had told him his leading lady's son was crying at insanely loud volumes, and was disturbing the sound crew's work. Martha practically ran to check up on him. She hated it when he cried. And hated it more when someone complained about him. He was her son to worry about. Not theirs. _

_As it turned out Richard really wasn't crying all that loud. It was more like a dry sob. But those stagehands could be more dramatic than the actors sometimes. Martha reached into the crib to pick up her son, feeling his head. He had a fever. She began to pace the floors while trying to lull him to sleep again. _

"_Come on darling," she whispered, "sleep for Mama. I promise you'll feel better in a bit."_

_Right now he was more important than her show. So, she settled into the arm chair in the corner of the room and began to sing to him. She could feel his tiny body beginning to relax. Looking into his face she saw that he was fighting to stay awake. Just as she stood to lay him back in his place she felt him grab onto her shirt, and heard his very small, hoarse voice._

"_Mama."_

Her reverie was broken by the sound of the band's playing of the Processional. She leaned over the railing in front of her to see the graduates filling their seats. There was one boy who looked like him, but there were so many caps that she couldn't tell for sure.

Martha rolled her eyes at herself. She hadn't even expected the school to allow Richard to graduate. After all, he got himself into quite a bit of trouble in high school. She'd never forget being called away from the theatre to go down to his school.

_She had stormed into the main office in her typical "drama-queen" style. If she remembered correctly, she had the receptionist cowering behind her desk._

"_My dear," Martha said as sweetly as possible as she leaned across the desk, "could you please tell me what is so important that I had to leave my rehearsal? I do have a show opening in two weeks, and this little detour is taking away from my preparations."_

"_Ms. Rogers I presume? Um…well, yes. You see your son Rick is in the principal's office. If you want, you can head in now." The young woman's voice wavered in fear. Sure Martha was quite the actress, but when she was mad, there was no need for theatrics. _

_Hiking her bag up onto her shoulder, Martha proceeded to carry her anger down the hall and into the principal's office, where her son was slumped in a chair against the wall. He simply looked up at his mother with a dreary look in his eyes._

"_Richard, what did you do?" _

_The principal was an older gentleman, with a sagging face and silver hair. He and Martha had crossed paths many times. "Ms. Rogers. Please, have a seat." He gestured to the chair in front of his large wooden desk. _

"_Now, I'm sure you want to know why you're here."_

"_No kidding I want to know. I was in the middle of rehearsing my finale when my assistant told me about your call. Please," she said leaning back and resting her forehead on her fingertips, "just tell me what he did now."_

"_Well it's not so much 'now' as 'been doing'."_

"_I'm sorry, but I don't follow."_

"_You see Ms. Rogers; we've discovered quite a large sum of money in your son's locker. Now, normally we wouldn't just go searching through the students' personal space, but a number of students have been seen handing off cash, so obviously, suspicion is due cause when it comes to the well-being of our students and staff. _

"_Well, why does he have so much money?" Panicked, Martha turned around in her seat to look at Richard. "Are you dealing drugs?" _

"_No Mother. I'm not dealing drugs."_

"_No he most certainly isn't." The principal added. "He's been running games of high-stakes poker and Texas Hold 'Em, and I'm sure a variety of other gambling opportunities." _

_Her eyes narrowed on her son at the news. "We have reason to believe he's collected hundreds of dollars in profit from the student body. As punishment for these actions we have issued him a ten-day suspension. But Ms. Rogers, we felt the need to ask you in, as this sort of behavior is unacceptable."_

"_I agree completely. Now, if you don't mind I really do need to get back to work."_

"_Absolutely," he said as he reached for her hand, "just one more thing." The man gestured for Rick to stand up and come closer. "Now I know you're a smart kid, but if something like this happens again, I can't help you, and I can't promise you'll be allowed to graduate." _

_The boy simply nodded at turned to follow his mother out. After they disappeared into the hall the principal could hear the result of his mother's anger._

"_Mother! Let go of my ear! I swear, I won't do it again!"_

Again her musings were broken. But this time it was to the sound of names being called. Luckily he was somewhat near the front of the alphabet, so she wouldn't have to wait very long, unlike other parents.

Soon the 'C's were being called, and she perked right up with her camera.

"Richard E. Castle." The announcer called.

Martha watched as he crossed the stage, shaking the line of hands, including that principal who gave him a teasing pat on the shoulder. At the top of the stairs Rick turned to find her in the crowd and held up his diploma, prompting her to get a good shot before he disappeared into the sea of graduates.

No, Martha Rogers never thought she'd be watching her child graduate from high school. But here she was, grinning like all the other parents. She couldn't be more proud of her son, and herself. She hadn't realized it, but one could say she had graduated too.

* * *

_**April 1, 1992 (Martha 40, Richard 21)**_

For the first time in twenty-one years Martha was spending this day alone. Her son had been taken on a birthday adventure by his girlfriend, Kyra. Because of this she and Richard had dinner together the night before, just the two of them. They went to their favorite restaurant, ate their favorite foods, and talked up a storm. There was a lot to talk about. This year had been a year of firsts for them.

Martha had done her first show in which she was not the lead.

Richard had made it through a year of school without causing trouble, for the first time…ever.

She had bought her first brand-new apartment.

But most importantly…he had published his first book. And received rave reviews over it.

The pair had been nearly inseparable. They supported each other in almost everything. They were each the other's biggest fan, and toughest critic. Martha contemplated this past year as she sat down at her desk. She had laid out the stationary, the envelope, the stamp, the book. All that she needed was right in front of her, and Martha found herself facing another first.

For the first time since Richard's birth and that very first letter – she was angry.

_Edward, _

_I cannot begin to convey to you how furious I am with you now. I have never once let myself write to you when I was upset. And believe me, there have been many times that I wanted to. _

_A long time ago you told me that you loved me, and I believed you. I let myself fall for you. You told me, night after night, that you would always be there for me. But you lied. You left after that summer and I haven't heard from you since. You know, when Richard was little I used to watch him sleep and hope that one day you would show up and want to be part of his life. I used to pray that you would come back to us. But now I realize that we don't need you. We never have. _

_Today Richard is twenty-one. I can hardly believe that my little boy who used to run around pestering the chorus girls is a man. The two of us have been through so much together, have made so many memories. And in a twisted way, it makes me happy to know that you will never have any of that with him. _

_During this past year I have watched him grow in so many ways. He's fallen in love for the first time. Now, personally, I think she's a wonderful girl, but she's too much like him. Quite honestly, I don't think they'll last for long. But he's having fun exploring this, and I have no intention of ruining that for him. _

_I know that I've told you your son is a writer. Well, now you can say your son is a published writer. Yes, his first novel was published and released about a month ago. It's an amazing novel. I'm sending it to you with this letter. He is extremely good at what he does, and not just with his writing. Read the book. Maybe you'll realize exactly what you've been ignoring for the past twenty-one years. _

_Martha_

With a much needed sigh Martha tossed the pen on the desk, closed her eyes, and ran a hand through her hair. Was she being too harsh? Maybe so. But after twenty-one years she needed to vent. Edward needed to know that she really was angry with him.

Her shaky hands reached out to the novel. She turned the book over in her hands and looked at her son's picture on the back. He was so young, but so talented. She flipped it face-up again and opened to the dedication page.

_To my partner in crime. Always on my side._

When she first saw the book she questioned Richard about that page. He had simply told her, with his typical joking voice that it was about her. "How did you not realize that?" He had said. The more she thought about it, the more she realized he had pegged their relationship exactly.

Smiling, Martha placed the letter in to mark the page, and wrapped the book in shipping paper.

Yes, she was angry. Was. But she had put it all down in ink, and was sending it off to another country, to bother someone else.

* * *

_**April 12, 1992**_

Fourteen letters were strewn across his desk. The postage dates ranged from 1971 through 1992. A twenty-one year span. Not a single one was opened.

Edward Samuels knew that they were from her. Well, yes, her name was on them as the return address, but it was more than that. He knew what they were all about. His child.

He didn't even know if he had a son or a daughter. What was their name? What did they look like? How did they act? He knew absolutely nothing. Every time a letter would arrive he would stare at it, stare at the growing pile - too afraid to read what was in them. No one in his present life knew about that summer in New York. Especially not his wife. He intended to keep it that way. It was easier to hide the letters and ignore them than face the truth.

But this time it was different. Two months ago he faced his mother on her death bed, and all she would discuss with him was the fact that he had given her no grandchildren. She had no idea that she was wrong. Ashamed, Edward reminded himself that his mother had died disappointed with him.

The newest arrival was not a letter, but a full blown package. Ever so carefully he peeled open the wrapping and found himself staring at a photo of a very young man. Richard Castle. He noticed that there was an envelope peeking out from the cover – the letter, no doubt. With hesitation, Edward ripped it open.

The contents of it shocked him. He had a son. A successful, smart son nonetheless. And Martha was angry with him, and she had every right to be. What was it she said? She had never been so angry before? So what was he supposed to do? All he could think of was the rest of those letters.

With a heavy heart Edward put the envelopes in the proper order, before locking his study door. He poured himself a tall drink and began to read.

* * *

Hey there! I've got my ideas for the next couple of chapters, but I'm curious to know what you think. Hit the button!! Please and thank you!


	4. Changes

_**March 9, 1993 (Martha 40, Richard 21)**_

Richard Castle stood at the door to his mother's apartment. He could hear her on the other side. She was at the piano, her hands dancing over the keys. Some of his best memories were of the two of them sitting at the piano with her playing to him. But despite all that she had played during his childhood he didn't recognize what she was working on now.

He huffed out a heavy sigh and lifted his fist to the door. This didn't seem like the right time to use his key. Besides, he was too nervous to even fish it from his pocket.

"Mother? It's me."

Silence crept its way into the hall.

"Do you have time to talk?" Who was he kidding? She would always have time for him. That's what made him so scared to be here.

The locks turned and the door opened to Martha. It was a Sunday afternoon, but as usual, she was all dolled up like she was going to the Tonys. She never was one to be understated.

"Of course, darling. Come in, come in. What do you need?"

Richard turned in the foyer as he rubbed his head. "I, uh. Can we sit? I kind of need to talk to you about something."

Martha was beginning to worry. She had never seen her son so out-of-sorts. The two moved in to the sitting area, taking their places on either side of the coffee table.

"So Richard, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"You know Meredith Mother?"

Martha rolled her eyes and stood to get a drink. "Yes, I do. I am very aware of the fact that you have a girlfriend who I personally think is only with you because of your career." She returned to her chair, alcohol in hand. "But no offense."

"Uh huh…no offence. Well, Mother, this kind of has to do with her."

"Oh really now," she said lifting her glass, "did finally get smart and leave her?" Shifting back she rested her feet on the table in front of her. Her son, on the other hand, leaned forward on his knees and stared her dead in the eyes.

"No. She's pregnant. And before you can say anything, yes, it's mine." For the first time ever Richard had his mother speechless. Even when he was younger and got involved in some questionable behaviors she always managed to at least yell at him. Now…well, she was dumbfounded.

"And I intend to marry her. Soon."

"Richard, are you sure about this? I mean, she could be playing games with you. Just trying to get at the money you've made. How do you know that this baby is yours? Do you have any proof?"

Her words were beginning to run together in the rush of emotion. She could not believe this. Her son was a good man. And this…Meredith…was just trying to take advantage of him.

"Yes, Mother. I have never been so sure about anything in my life." He stood from the couch and began to make his way to the door. His mother's mouth was still hanging open.

He paused as his hand touched the knob, facing the door. "I know you don't like her Mother," he whispered, "but I need to do this. I will be a good husband to Meredith. And I will be the father that this child deserves."

* * *

_**October 24, 1993 (Martha 41, Richard 22)**_

It was a cold, white hallway that she was sitting in. Why couldn't they make hospitals more pleasant looking? Was there a law against having a cheerful atmosphere in the medical world? Especially in the maternity wing where things were supposed to be joyous.

Seriously. Here she was, Martha Rogers, waiting for her grandchild's arrival, and no one was telling her anything. Richard had called and told her to get here almost eight hours ago, but she hadn't seen or spoken to him since.

In one sweep Martha rose from the stiff chair she had been sitting in and moved over to the nurses' station. The woman sitting at the counter was a short, stocky thing. Dry brown hair with inconspicuous grey patches made Martha grateful that she was still a fully natural redhead.

"Excuse me, but can you tell me about my daughter-in-law?" She still couldn't believe that she even had a daughter-in-law. "She was admitted nearly eight hours ago and I haven't heard from my son yet."

The woman sighed dropping her pen and looked around her desk before looking at the woman in front of her. "Ma'am, I'm going to have to go find out for you if you don't mind waiting." Clearly this nurse minded having to do some work. "I don't have that sort of information here." With a sign and a roll of her eyes Martha leaned back against the counter. "Sure, go ahead. I'm not a worried family member or anything." She said folding her arms across her chest.

As slow as a snail the woman stood and made her way down the hall. But before she rounded the corner a door opened up and Richard stepped out.

Her son was dressed in a hospital issue blue gown, complete with a cap over his head. By the look on his face she could see something had happened. Martha abandoned her place and rushed over to her son, pulling him over to the chairs.

"Richard." She tried to get his attention, but he continued to stare out at the wall. "Richard, darling, what is it? Is everything alright?" His sustained silence forced her to go and get him a cup of water, which he took with a shaky hand. He gently lifted the cup to his lips before turning to face her.

"A little girl, Mother. Alexis." He paused to take another gulp of water. "She's beautiful. The most perfect thing I've ever seen." A smile grew across Richard's face. Martha remembered that feeling well.

"She's amazing Mom." Martha reached out and wrapped her son in a hug. Savoring the moment.

"Well Richard, congratulations! I really am happy that you're happy."

Jumping out of his chair Richard practically knocked over the water on the end table. He grabbed his mother's hands and pulled her towards the doors he had come through. "Come on, you have to see her!"

"Oh but Richard, I'm sure Meredith does not want to see me, of all people right now. I'll come see her after you get home." After getting her through the door Richard placed his hands on her shoulders and continued to push. "Don't be ridiculous! Besides," he whispered, "she's sleeping anyway." They reached a door on the left side of the hall. Carefully, Martha pushed it open, and sure enough Meredith was fast asleep, a crib placed beside her bed. Shaky legs carried her over to the baby, Richard's hands still on her.

"Here," he said directing her to a rocking chair. Gently he reached in to pick up his daughter, and place her in her grandmother's arms. With a single finger Martha stroked the baby's pink cheek. "She has your eyes."

"You think?" He leaned in to kiss her fuzzy little head.

"She's positively gorgeous Richard. She really is." Martha stood and returned Alexis to her crib, then turned to hug her son again. After what seemed like hours Rick bent into her ear.

"Thank you Mother. Really. I know I did some pretty stupid stuff as a kid, and I know I can be a major pain in the ass, but I'm going to be good for her. I really will."

Martha pushed back from his arms. "I know you will Richard. And you being you, who can never do anything halfway, she'll be the most spoiled girl in the city, too." She quickly gave her him a kiss on the cheek and walked towards the door, Richard at her side.

"Now, I need to get back to the theatre, but I'll come by again later tonight."

"Ok, Mother. I love you." He returned her gesture before opening the door and watching her turn out into the hallway.

Turning back around Rick gazed upon his wife and daughter – not a clue of how much his life was going to change.

* * *

_**April 1, 1995 (Martha 42, Richard 24)**_

New York in the spring could be quite unpredictable. One day could be sunny and clear and the next could be ruined by a torrential downpour. Fortunately for Martha today was one of the most beautiful days she had seen in a long time.

She was sitting on a bench in the playground near her son's apartment. He was supposed to drop Alexis off to her so he could go out to lunch – and likely more – with Meredith for his birthday. Her eyes were shut, the soft breeze cooling her face. Son enough she heard footsteps approaching. Opening her eyes she saw that Richard was struggling to keep his daughter in his arms. She was just like her father, Martha thought, just couldn't keep still. Meredith, of course, was doing nothing to help.

"See Lex? There's Gram!" At seeing her granddaughter Martha quickly stepped over to meet them. She just couldn't resist that sweet face.

"Why hello my love!" She sang out, taking Alexis in her arms. "Did you say 'Happy Birthday' to Daddy today?" The little redhead simply giggled, making Martha laugh as well. She took the designer baby bag that Meredith had insisted on having, and sat down with Alexis in the grass. Lounging in such a way was something she would only do for Alexis. As if she had forgotten her son was there she began to remove toys and a blanket from the bag as she hummed some show tune or another.

"Ok, Martha! We're going to go now. We'll meet you back at the apartment in a couple of hours." Meredith started to drag Rick away, but he escaped her grasp and rushed back to give his mother and daughter a final kiss goodbye.

"Have fun girls!" He called. And before the two even knew it Richard and Meredith had left the park.

For the next forty-five minutes Martha played non-stop with her granddaughter. And what a joy she was to play with! The girl never stopped moving. It reminded Martha of what it was like to occupy Richard when he was a toddler. All too quickly their fun had caught up with Alexis, and she fell asleep on the blanket. Luckily, Martha anticipated such a crash and had moved their toy fort underneath a large oak tree.

Now she leaned against the sturdy trunk and took out her notebook. This was going to be harder than she though, for a few reasons. First of all, she was worn out from playing in the sun. Second, how do you tell a man that his son is not only married, but a father himself? Well, she had to do it somehow. She flipped to the next clear page and took out her pen. It was one that Alexis had "given" her for Christmas – "World's Greatest Grandma" it read.

_Dear Edward,_

_I don't know quite how to tell you this, so I guess it's a good thing I don't have to actually face you. Back to my point. Richard's gotten married. More importantly, he has a baby. A little girl named Alexis. She's about a year and a half old now, and is without a doubt the most beautiful baby in the world. And yes, I know every grandmother – can you believe I'm a grandmother? – says that, but it's true. She's perfect. Her mother Meredith is a whole different story that I won't begin to get into. I'll just make myself angry and Alexis is sleeping beside me at the moment. _

_Yes, Richard is still writing. He's one of the New York Times' top authors now, even! He's working on a series for this new character, Derrick Storm. I don't know, I think he's some kind of spy? Sure like any good mother I read the books, but I have so many shows running around in my head that I can't keep everything straight. But so far in this "Storm" series every book has made the bestseller's list. _

_Honestly I don't know if you receive these letters at all, or if you even care. But I still think that you deserve to know what your son is up to. I know I should have written to you about Meredith and Alexis after she was born, but there never seemed to be enough time to write. Meredith tends to be out a lot, so Richard has needed some help with Alexis. _

_I hope everything's going well for you Edward, I really do. _

_By the way, I'm sending you a picture too. It's of Richard, Alexis, and I from this past Christmas._

_Martha_

Martha smiled as she looked at the picture before she put it in the envelope. Alexis was wearing a onsie she had bought her that read "Daddy's Girl" on the front in bold, pink letters. It was true. She was her daddy's girl. Richard would do anything for her and Martha knew it. Alexis had changed his life. Sure, he still acted like a child, but that was to be expected considering his situation. Without question he put Alexis ahead of Meredith – who didn't appreciate being shown up by her own daughter. It had actually taken a lot of careful wordplay to get Meredith to take the picture she was holding. There was a lot of "You never know, Mer, you may be a talented photographer," and "Just imagine telling everyone you took such a wonderful shot," by she and Richard. Sure enough it worked on Meredith's already inflated ego.

After enclosing the letter and photo Martha returned to rubbing Alexis' back. They had about an hour before they needed to get back to the apartment. Maybe some Gram-Alexis shopping was in order? After all, you're never too young to shop with Daddy's credit card.

* * *

_**December 28, 1997 (Martha 45, Richard 26)**_

Three o'clock in the morning and the phone was ringing? Who could possibly be calling this early in the morning? Martha slowly pulled herself out of bed and made her way to the phone.

Then it hit her. What if something had happened to Richard? Or Alexis? Maybe Meredith? She picked up speed before yanking the phone nearly out of the wall.

"Hello?" Her breathing was heavy with worry.

"Ms. Rogers? This is Hank. The doorman in Mr. Castle's building."

"Yes, yes, I remember. What is it? Is something the matter with Richard or Alexis?" Martha had remembered Hank was a very nice young man. He was always talking sports with Richard and giving Alexis lollipops or some other candy. He was a good guy.

"Well, you see…I'm not exactly sure."

"What do you mean?"

"I got a call from Mr. Castle's neighbor a few minutes ago. She said that she had heard some slamming and Alexis was crying, so I went up to see for myself. But when I knocked on the door no one answered. I didn't want to just storm in. You know, just didn't feel right. I figured I'd call you to be safe."

Martha was struggling to piece together the possibilities as she listened. "Ok, well, I'll tell you what. You just go park that cute little tush of yours outside his door, and I'll be right over. But if you hear anything, and I mean anything you break that door down and save the day if the situation calls for it."

With that she slammed the phone down on its receiver and began a mad dash for clothes.

Thanks to a cab driver who happened to be a fan of her show, she made it over to Richard's apartment in less than ten minutes. All it cost her were two tickets for the Saturday night performance.

She ran into and out of the elevator with near superwoman speed, fearing that something had happened to her son or granddaughter, and even though she wouldn't admit it, she was a little concerned for her daughter-in-law too. Just as she had asked, Hank had posted himself right next to the door, and immediately pointed his thumbs to the door, and raised his eyebrows in question.

Now the only sound that could be heard was a very faint cry. Obviously Alexis.

"Thanks, Hank. I think I'll take it from here." She gave the young man a pat on the shoulder, taking out her key with her free hand. "I'll give you a call if I need any help."

"No problem Ms. R." He flashed a hopeful smile before disappearing down the service stairs.

Carefully, Martha turned the key and opened the door. There was Richard, sprawled out across the couch. One leg over the back of the couch, the other hanging over the armrest; right arm up over his head, the left drooping down to the floor – beer in hand. In fact, there were several beer bottles scattered across the floor, one of which was sitting atop a manila envelope.

Then there was Alexis. Martha could hear the muffled cries coming from the nursery. But Meredith was nowhere in sight. No time to worry about that though – she had to help her granddaughter. Almost as quickly as she got into the apartment she reached Alexis, soothed her tired lungs, and sang her back to sleep. Her next step was to get down stairs and find the root of this little disturbance.

Ripping the bottle from Richard's grasp Martha made a plan of action in her head. With all the strength she could muster she grabbed Richard's forearms, and pulled him to a sitting position.

"Mother!" He yelled. The word seemed to be coming from underwater.

"Oh, Richard!" She stood before him, hand son her hips, and foot tapping. "What the hell happened here?" He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. "No! You tell me why I was called at three in the morning to come over, only to find you drunk as a skunk and Alexis crying helplessly from her room, your wife – missing? Yes, Richard, tell me a story. Why was I worried sick?"

Before he could conjure up an answer she flew into the kitchen, and returned with two Advil and a glass of water.

"Mother," he slurred, "I don't-"

"Oh just shut up for once." With one hand she grabbed his cheeks, forcing his mouth open, and shoved the pills inside, handed him the glass of water, and watched him down half of it in one swallow.

As if he were a wet noodle, Richard leaned back against the couch. The half-empty glass balanced on his knee. His voice was barely a whisper. "She's divorcing me, Mother."

"What?" Martha's face twisted in confusion. "What do you mean divorcing you? Wha-where is she Richard?"

"California. With her director. Says I can have Alexis." Clearly he was fighting back tears.

Tenderly Martha reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. Just enough contact to help him feel better without making him breakdown.

"Oh, Richard. I'm sorry for yelling at you like that. I was…I was just so afraid that something had happened to you."

"It's alright Mother," he started with a sigh, "I needed it. I deserved it." The two sat in silence for a moment, listening to the small noises Alexis made from the monitor. "It's just not fair. And I don't care about fair for me. I mean for Alexis. She's such an extraordinary little girl. She deserves to have to parents that love her."

"Darling, don't get me wrong, but by your standards she's been in an unfair situation for a while now. In case you've never noticed Meredith wasn't exactly a 'loving' mother. Doesn't it say something to her character that she would jump on a plane to the other side of the country and simply saying that you 'could have' Alexis? She's not property dear. Like you said she's an extraordinary little girl. And I'm sure she doesn't care about 'fairness'. 'Fair' isn't what she needs right now."

Richard looked at his mother as she spoke. She wasn't looking at him anymore, but rather at the space over his shoulder.

"She needs you. Just you. To be there for her. To be her dad. Honestly, Richard, you of all people should know that you don't need two parents." She playfully smacked her son's leg, and stood to gather the bottles from their various places. "Come now; help me clean up your mess…again."

Slowly he rose from the couch and helped with the damage control. That is, until he heard Alexis cry again.

"Go on. I can handle this." He smiled and made his way up the stairs to his daughter, returning not five minutes later.

"See, Richard? You don't need Meredith. You never have."

* * *

_**April 1, 1998 (Martha 45, Richard 27)**_

The one major downfall to being a successful novelist was that you had to do these things called book tours. Exactly what Richard did not want to be doing. He hated being away from Alexis, but she just couldn't come with him. She wasn't quite old enough for all the traveling yet.

Luckily he managed to escape from his current signing for a moment. Just long enough to make a call home.

From where Martha was sitting – at Richard's dining room table – she could do everything she needed to do. Alexis was quietly playing on the rug a few feet away, her script and notes were strewn over the table, and there was a nice tall glass of flavored water in the middle. No alcohol for this Gram – she had to babysit, and of course, learn her lines.

The ringing of the phone interrupted her train of thought, and seemed to have captured Alexis' attention for a moment too. She needed the stretch though, so she stood and went to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"Mother, it's me."

"Richard, darling" she called in her special way, "Happy Birthday! Now tell me how you managed to find the time to call? I thought you were signing books today?"

"I am, but I managed to get away for a minute or two. Can I talk to Alexis please? If she's awake?" Martha rolled her eyes, but if she were really going to be honest she did find it quite sweet that he wanted to talk to a four-year-old over the phone. Bending down she handed the girl the phone. "Here, love, talk to Daddy."

Martha smiled as the two began to have some sort of conversation. Quickly she sat back down and took out a sheet of stationary and a pen.

_Dear Edward,_

_It seems that these letters keep getting shorter and shorter. I'm beginning to find that there is very little in Richard's life that's new anymore. Yes, he's still writing. Still Derrick Storm. And he's still just as successful. _

_I can't even begin to describe how good Alexis is. She is incredibly smart for her age. I have no idea where she gets it. I guess you could say Richard was just as smart, but his shenanigans tended to cloud his grades. _

_But I guess I should tell you that Richard's gotten a divorce. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't happy about it. Although the reasons behind it aren't very pleasant. Meredith ran off to California with her director, serving him with divorce papers. She gladly gave up Alexis - all Richard had to do was give her a cut from the books he wrote during their marriage. Obviously he took the deal. For a while he was fairly depressed about it, but he's doing much better now._

_And that's where I find the difference between you and your son, I suppose. He could have run from Meredith when she told him she was pregnant, but he didn't. He stayed. He became a fantastic father. And now he's the only true parent Alexis has left. There have been so many times these past few months when he was frustrated and asked me 'how do I do this?' or 'how can I be a good father?' And I simply tell him all that matters is that he's here doing the best he can. _

_We all know some men can't do that._

_Martha_

"Bye, bye Daddy!" She heard Alexis say. But before she could do anything Alexis had managed to disconnect her father, only the dial tone echoing through the speaker.

* * *

_**April 13, 1998**_

She was right, he thought. Some men couldn't be fathers. He couldn't. But Edward was proud that his genes apparently skipped a generation. His son was a father, which meant he was…a grandfather? Technically. Better yet, his son was a good father. A "fantastic" father as she put it.

Solemnly Edward refolded the letter. He bent down, unlocking his bottom desk drawer, pulling out a small wooden box. He opened the cover and added the letter to the pile, then let his eyes drift up. Taped to the inside of the lid were a rose – long past its lifetime, withered and cracking at the edges, a clipping from an old Playbill, and two photos. One black and white – he and Martha sharing ice cream near Rockefeller Center, the other in full color – Martha, his son and granddaughter from Christmas.

He let out a sigh and returned the box to the drawer, locking it away for the time being. It was just a little part of himself that he intended on keeping locked up, until he could figure out exactly what to do, if there was even anything to be done.


	5. Needs

**So I think this chapter has a little bit of everything in it. Again, I don't own anything. **

**I must thank all of my wonderful readers and reviewers! You make me smile! A special thanks to DetectiveBeckett85 and bellelover001, and everyone on Castle chat for all the help and ideas! **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_**May 3, 2000 (Martha 47, Richard 29, Alexis 6)**_

"Ricky, please!" Meredith pushed a hand into his chest, the other on her daughter's shoulder. "We'll be fine. Go! Enjoy yourself." Now she had him standing in the door frame as he looked into Alexis' confused eyes.

"Alright, alright! Just give me a sec with her okay?"

Meredith huffed. "Fine. I'll be right back. I'm going to go put these bags in the other room."

Rick bent down and pulled his daughter into his arms, burying his face in her sweep of red hair. "I'll be back in three days sweetie. You'll have fun, I promise." She pulled back from him.

"Okay, Daddy. I love you." She jumped back into his arms for another hug.

Playfully he bent down and kissed her nose, and blew raspberries into her neck, making her laugh. "I love you too."

He looked up to see Meredith coming back to the door. "Now go," he turned her around by her shoulders and gave her a little pat on the back, "before you know it you'll be stuck with me again." She giggled as she walked over to her mom.

"Meredith," his tone had suddenly taken a turn to the serious side, "call me if you need me. I mean it."

"I know, I know! Now get out of here. Enjoy your trip!" And with that she shut the door, and he started out to his car.

Rick pulled out into the California traffic with a heavy heart. 'You need the break Rick. You need some time away.' All he had to do was keep telling himself that and maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't hurt so much to be away from her.

He hated that he had left Alexis, but she was finally getting to spend a few days with Meredith in Los Angeles. Alexis hardly ever got the chance to see her mother. Sure, occasionally she'd fly out to New York to see her daughter, but Meredith was never one to make definite plans. So, after weeks of whining from a six-year old who missed her mommy, Rick broke down and bought plane tickets. He was starting to wonder where she picked up that sad puppy-dog look from.

After a couple hours driving he reached his destination and stepped out into the California sunshine. At least he had gotten a three day vacation himself.

Now, he loved his daughter to pieces, but a man could only handle so many nights of watching Beauty and the Beast, and car rides to the tune of "A Whole New World" and "Under the Sea". Rick was absolutely sure that Disney had a monopoly on the minds of the worlds' children.

So, when Meredith told him that she wanted her three days with Alexis to be her three days with Alexis, Rick decided to rent a Mustang convertible, a car that he couldn't possibly drive Alexis with, and take a road trip down memory lane to San Jose.

The last time he had been here was about twenty years ago, with his mother's tour group. At the time she had been dating this guy…Anthony, something, was his name. Rick remembered he was a nice guy. He treated his mother well, and took him to all sorts of cool places. Anthony, or Tony, as he called the man, brought him to Sharks' games as often as he could during the two months the show was in California. Tony was always willing to drive from wherever in the state they happened to be to take him.

Rick never knew why his mother stopped seeing him, she just sort of stopped. But ever since that summer Rick had been a die-hard hockey fan. A Sharks fan specifically. If for no other reason than being with Tony at the games gave him a little glimpse of what it was like to have a father.

Taking his place in the crowd Rick pushed his regret of leaving Alexis to the back of his mind. She would be fine. As flakey as Meredith was she'd never do anything dangerous with their daughter. Worst case scenario, he'd just be lugging a few extra suitcases home with junk she had bought the girl.

He took his seat inside the arena and a smile grew across his face. It was like he was ten years old again, wearing his jersey, drinking his Coke, anxious to watch the action. Only now his jersey was larger, and he held a beer instead of a soda. Yes, he thought again, he deserved this vacation.

* * *

_**August 25, 2001 (Martha 49, Richard 30, Alexis 7)**_

Martha stood in front of the full length mirror in the back of her closet. She was surrounded by a plethora of brightly colored fabrics, sequined tops, jeweled belts, and lots and lots of purses. Handbags – her guilty pleasure.

She took one final look at the black and white dress she had chosen. Large abstract flowers were printed all over it. Silver jewelry hung from her neck and ears.

"Ah, well…" she said to herself, reaching for her bag. Her last birthday was her fiftieth. At the birthday party Richard had thrown her – nothing too big, just her, her son and granddaughter – she firmly told him that he must have done the math wrong. There was no way she was fifty.

But the more she had thought about it, the more real it seemed. So, she had started dating again. There had been quite a few men in her life over the years, but when Richard was younger she just didn't feel right brining men home. But now that he had his own life she had decided it was time for her to get one too.

The sound of her doorbell ringing broke her train of thought. Tonight, she was going out. Having a life.

* * *

When she returned to her apartment later that night she could hear the television. That just didn't make any sense. She had turned it off before she left, right?

Carefully and quietly she unlocked her door, and entered. It was dark. Well, dark, except for the blue glow coming from the television. She squinted to look at the figure sprawled across her couch.

"Richard."

"Mother!" He jumped straight up. "Where have you been? I've been trying to call you all night."

"I was out."

"Out?" A confused look overtook his features. "What do you mean 'out'?"

"I was…out, on a…date." She set her purse and keys down on her credenza and turned back to him, digging a fist into her hip, and cocking her head to the side. "And why exactly am I telling you this anyway?"

"I told you! I've been trying to call you all night! I was getting worried." Richard watched as his mother made her way to her kitchen. To get a glass of wine, no doubt.

Stretching, she reached up for two glasses, and then poured the chilled, red liquid in them.

"Well, Richard. I'm a big girl. You don't need to worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"But Mother," he took the glass from her but didn't take a sip, and placed it back on the counter, "this has been happening, like…a lot! What's going on?"

She had begun to pace the small kitchen. One arm draped over her chest, the other waving the glass around like a napkin. "What's going on? I'm having a life Richard! I need my own life!" Without realizing it, she had begun to yell at him. And after looking at his face, Martha realized that she had gone a little too far.

A silence fell over the apartment, heavy as an elephant.

"Richard, I didn't – I'm sorry, I just…" She had put her glass down and was moving to put a loving hand on his shoulder.

"No. Just – don't." His gaze fell to the floor. "I have to get home. I left Alexis with a neighbor." Martha watched with an open mouth as he walked to the door, picking up his coat and keys along the way. "Have fun with your dates."

Martha began to rub her temples with her fingertips as she leaned against her kitchen counter. She had hurt him. Hurt him badly. But what was she supposed to do? She could use a social life. God knows she hadn't had one of those in a long, long time.

* * *

_**April 1, 2002 (Martha 49, Richard 31, Alexis 8)**_

This year Martha decided to let Richard make his own birthday plans. If she remembered correctly, he had told her he and Alexis were going on an "extreme do-it-all, take-no-prisoners birthday adventure." She vaguely recalled that it had something to do with paintball, laser tag, rock climbing, and who knows what else. And she wanted no part in any of that.

So, tonight she was going to the theatre, instead of performing. She had even taken a couple weeks off from her show for a little R & R. It had been quite an eventful two weeks, too. She had taken Alexis shopping – multiple times - gone to the spa, seen some friends' shows, and seen some men.

Although the number of men had taken a decline after her little fight with Richard. They had both sulked around each other for a couple of weeks after that. The tension could have been cut with a knife.

She did have a date for this evening, but he was the director of the play, and an old friend from when she first arrived in New York. They had run into each other in a deli a couple of weeks ago, and he asked her to attend a performance with him. Low key, she had told him. They would be meeting at the theatre, and go for dinner or coffee after to catch up.

Martha opened her desk drawer to take out her ticket for the evening when it hit her. She hadn't written Edward in three years. Checking her watch she decided that she had enough time, and sat down with a piece of stationary and a pen.

She started to tap her pen against the desktop. She was stumped. There was very little left to say to him, which would probably explain why she hadn't written in years. So, she wrote down the only thing she could think of.

_Edward,_

_I know it's been a while, but seeing as I've never gotten any complaints, I'm not concerned. _

_Don't worry, Richard and Alexis are fine. They're being their usual father and daughter, crazy selves. She's eight years old now, but you'd never know it. She acts like she's 18. Richard's the one who acts like a child. But this isn't about them._

_I felt the need to tell you that I'm finally moving on. Yes, I'm sure you moved on a number of years ago, but I don't think I ever really let you go. So, now I am. I'm done waiting for you Edward. Done waiting for you to come back, done waiting for you to get involved with Richard. _

_I'm still going to write you about what he's up to, you can be sure of that. I still think you have no idea what you're missing. _

_I'm moving on Edward. Finally. I need a life that has more in it than Richard and Alexis. I love them, but I need to be my own person. I've kept myself from that for way too long._

_Martha_

Well, that was that. With a twinge of anger in her movement Martha folded the letter into an envelope, addressed it and put it with her purse. She would stop at the mailbox on her way out.

After a quick check in the mirror she decided that she did, indeed, look ready for a night with a friend. She snagged her bag and the letter, locked the door behind her, with a tune on her tongue.

* * *

_**November 6, 2003 (Martha 51, Richard 32, Alexis 10)**_

"Is this how I do it?"

"No Gram. Here, let me see it." Alexis took the mouse away from her grandmother and began furiously clicking away on the screen. Pictures and documents flew into view.

"Wha- what are you doing?" Martha turned to Alexis in surprise, one finger pointing accusingly at the screen. "How did you do that?"

"It's easy Gram! Look!" Alexis quickly climbed into the chair beside her, the two splitting the cushion down the middle. "All you do is click 'Start' then 'My Pictures' and then you find the right file. Okay, like? What do you want to see the pictures from?"

"Um, I don't know, darling, why don't you show me the ones from your birthday?"

"Oh-kay, so, here" she said putting Martha's hand on the mouse, and her hand over-top of it, "you look for the one that says what you're looking for. Like, this one says 'Lexi's birthday' so you double-click it and you'll see the pictures."

Alexis could feel the woman's fingers clicking underneath hers. "Hah hah!" Martha called, throwing her hands in the air. "Look Alexis I did it!"

The girl started nodding her head. She grinned at the joy in her grandmother's voice. She had taken to clicking nearly everything she could find now. There were about thirty windows open on the screen. Alexis was sure that if she let her keep going the computer would crash.

"Ok, ok! Gram! Gram!" Alexis ripped the mouse from Martha's hand and began closing things.

"What my love?"

"You just can't open that many windows at one time. It'll freeze up on you."

Martha immediately stopped what she was doing and looked at Alexis. "What's a window?"

With a grunt Alexis stood to get a pillow off the couch, this was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

_**June 22, 2004 (Martha 52, Richard 33, Alexis 10)**_

Arm in arm Richard walked with his mother through Central Park. Alexis was at a birthday party for her friend Paige, so the two had the next couple of hours alone.

The sun was shining. It was summer, so it was also very, very warm out. Not Miami warm, but warm nonetheless.

"Tell me Richard, how is your new book coming? I mean, I see you write all the time but I never really know what you're writing about."

"Uh, Mother," a small smile curved on the edge of his mouth, "are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes! Is it really that bad? What is Derrick Storm up to this time?" She waved her free hand in the air with a flourish.

"Well, he's busy hunting down a mass murderer in the jungles of South America, but I don't exactly know how he's going to fight off the angry natives and the wild animals, which I have yet to research. So, I don't exactly know what they are yet."

"Hmm" was the only response he got.

"Not to mention the fact that the murder has just taken the native children hostage in a hut."

"Ahh. You're right."

"What," he said, sitting down on a nearby bench.

"I didn't want to know." The two shared a laugh for a moment.

"Honestly, Richard, I don't know how you do it."

"What do you mean, Mother?"

"How do you manage it? Having such a successful career and being a perfect father?"

He turned away from her and shoved his hands into his pockets. Watching the fountain in front of them he thought of a response.

"I'm not a perfect father."

Martha was shocked. Usually her son took every compliment he could get. Gently she reached out to brush the stray hairs that fell in his face.

"Are you kidding me? I've never seen a girl as grounded and loved as Alexis. She adores you. And the two of you are always having so much fun, I just – don't know how you do it."

"Well we weren't having so much fun this morning." He swung his head in her direction. "She was getting ready for this party, and, you know it's at the ice skating rink right?"

"Yes."

"She insisted on wearing these electric blue shorts I just bought her and a matching tank top. Then got mad and started slamming things when I told her she couldn't wear it."

"Oh Richard, please." Martha flapped her hand at him before folding her arms across her chest. "She's a ten year old girl. She's going to get angry with you. And you know that telling her what she can and cannot wear is exactly what a parent is supposed to do. If you ask me she should be grateful you let her go to the party at all."

"Yea," he sighed, "I seriously did consider grounding her. But, she's never been grounded before. Ever. And she never actually yelled at me or anything anyway."

"So what did you do to get her to change and go to the party?"

"I just went into her room and explained to her that if she wore that to the ice skating rink her legs would freeze up and fall off, shattering all over the ice like glass." He smiled as he set himself back in the bench. "No. Well, yes, I did tell her that, but then I told her that it wasn't healthy to wear her summer clothes for skating, made her pick out jeans and a sweater, and promised her that we'd go to the park over the weekend for her to show off her new digs."

"See Richard. Perfect father."

"Yea," he reached up and put his hands behind his head, bending back over the top of the bench, "I guess you're right."

"And there's the Richard I know and love."

* * *

**Again, I really appreciate all the feedback and support! **


	6. Luck

**So this is not the original way this chapter was supposed to go. It was going to be much longer, but I decided to divide it in half. I hope you like it! **

**As always, if you know it, it's not mine.**

**Enjoy!**

**Luck**

**

* * *

**

_**January 30, 2005 (Martha 53, Richard 33, Alexis 11)**_

It was early on a Saturday morning in New York, and Martha Rogers was on her way to pick up her granddaughter. Today was their shopping day. It had become a tradition for the two to go out for breakfast and hit Fifth Avenue on the last Saturday of every month. They would take Richard's American Express card and stay out until they couldn't feel their feet anymore.

These outings had started last summer – right after her son came home from his latest book tour married to his publicist.

As Martha sauntered down to the apartment she contemplated her second daughter-in-lay. Gina. Just the thought of her made Martha shake her head in disgust. Richard had married her with the best of intentions – despite all her reassurances; she couldn't get him to see that he was a wonderful single parent. No, he really thought Alexis needed a mother. What made him think that _she_ was mother material…well, he was Richard Castle, did he really need a reason?

But Alexis was no fool. She knew what a happy marriage was supposed to look like, and knew that her father and Gina were not "happy." So, to escape the fighting she started calling her grandmother – 'just to talk' – and asked about going shopping. Even though the pair got divorced after a few months, Martha still loved her time with Alexis. So, they had made shopping their thing.

With a sneaking suspicion Martha turned her key, preparing for the unpredictable scene that was bound to be on the other side of the door.

Sure enough, her instinct was right. Today's activity-of-choice was a fencing match. Complete with foils.

Ever so gracefully she pinned herself against the door, protecting herself from an impending stabbing.

"Richard! Alexis!" Her calls went ignored, as her son and granddaughter continued to pounce back and forth at each other. Yelling out various phrases and short statements.

Calling again with no avail Martha decided to try a more direct approach. Placing two fingers in her mouth she let out a shrill whistle. Immediately the fighting stopped, the two turning to face her.

"Mother?" Richard whined. "We were really getting into it! Besides I almost had her!"

"Oh yea right!" Alexis teased, sticking her tongue out at her father, on her toes with her face as close to his as she could get it. She only came up to his elbows. "I was totally going to win!"

Before he could offer his next argument Alexis had darted to the stairs. "I'll be right down Gram! I'm just going to get changed!"

"Alright darling! No hurry!" Placing her fists in her hips Martha eyed her son. A sour look on her face. "Honestly Richard, must you?" Sighing, she dropped her bag and coat on a chair and moved to sit on the couch.

He had begun to pick up the abandoned fencing equipment, his face wrinkled in confusion. "Must I what?"

"Does she really need all this? I think that the last four times I've been here, which mind you have been in the last two weeks, I've found you umm...let's see" she said tapping her chin with her index finger, "fencing, racing planes, building enormous structures out of legos, and playing laser tag?" She slapped her arms on the couch on either side of her body while he sat next to her. "Why do you keep buying so many toys?"

Heavily, Richard sighed. And cupped his chin in his hands. "I don't know. I guess…I just – feel. I don't know, guilty." He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. "I mean, it's been like four months, but I feel like I owe her."

It was true, at least in Martha's mind. He did owe his daughter. His marriage to Gina, however short-lived, was hell for Alexis. She was the one, after all, stuck in the same apartment with them. She had to listen to the fighting, the insults. And her name had been included quite a number of times.

Martha had received many late-night calls from a scared, sobbing girl who wanted her daddy back.

"Oh, Richard." She scooted over and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "I hate to say it, but yes, you do owe her." Slowly Richard lifted his head from his hands and looked at his mother. "Face it kiddo, she has to deal with things that no other kid has to. You're a famous novelist dear. And that comes with a lot of pressure, for both of you. You're not married to her mother, who lives across the country, and you just got married and divorced in a four month period. To a cold, heartless, rude…"

"Ok, Mother. I get it. But what am I supposed to do? I mean, I've apologized to her, made sure that her birthday was out of this world, the only other thing I know how to do is buy things for her."

"Richard, I have told you time and time again that all you have to do is be there for her."

The two simultaneously leaned back in the couch, staring each other in the eye.

"And maybe," she started, "date a few less women for a while."

Richard smiled and jumped at the sight of his daughter coming down the stairs.

"Hey pumpkin! You all set?"

"Yea Dad." She reached up to the hook that held her coat. "Come on Gram! I'm starving."

"Well then!" Martha sang as she picked up her belongings, "Pancakes and shopping, here we come!" She reached out; linking the girls arm with hers, and the two began to head out of the apartment.

Richard watched as the pair giggled to each other. "Hey, Laverne and Shirley! Aren't you forgetting something?" He waved his hand in the air.

Alexis turned and ran back, grabbing the piece of plastic from him. "Thanks Dad!" She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed herself up to give him a kiss on the cheek. "I love you!"

He couldn't stop staring at the girl he couldn't believe was his. She was incredible. "I love you too." He whispered.

Hand on her granddaughter's back, Martha looked over her shoulder, giving her son her trademark 'what-did-I-tell-you' wink.

* * *

_**May 30, 2006 (Martha 55, Richard 35, Alexis 12)**_

Today was not going well. Martha had woken up at five o'clock in the morning to the sound of the fire alarm, gotten a late start to her day, arriving at the theatre a full two hours after she was scheduled to be there, missed the lunch truck, and gotten splashed by a passing bus on her way out.

And it was her birthday.

Luckily she had time to head home before meeting Richard and Alexis.

At six-thirty there was a knock at her door. Opening it, Martha found a vase full of pink roses – her favorite – a card propped up neatly in the center.

_We'll pick you up at 8._

_R and A_

Somehow, Martha thought, Richard had inherited this little habit of sending flowers and notes to her from his father. He even signed them the same way.

Lifting the blooms from the floor, Martha couldn't help but admire her son's thoughtfulness. However, she would have loved to know where in the world he was taking her this evening. He also had an annoying tendency to plan surprises, knowing full well that she despised them.

After placing the vase on her kitchen counter she returned to her closet, scratching her head. How was she supposed to know what to wear?

* * *

An hour and a half later she stood in the hallway leading to her door, admiring her choice of wardrobe in the mirror. She had decided on a peacock blue, long-sleeved dress, a wrap sporting a bright floral print, and, of course, gold jewelry dripping from her neck, ears, and wrists.

You could never be too dressed up she always said.

Just as she fluffed up her last curl, she heard a soft knock at her door. Hopefully it was a real human being, not another note. Sure enough, Alexis was standing on the other side grinning ear to ear.

"Alexis! Where's your father?" Martha was confused. Once she had locked the door behind her she looked down both sides of the hall for her son, finding nothing. "And where exactly are we going?"

Alexis continued to beam. "Well, you see Gram, I'm not supposed to tell you." Quickly she grabbed her grandmother's arm before she could protest, and pulled her out over to the elevator.

They reached the ground floor, Martha following the eleven-year-old out of the building, only to find a black limousine waiting for them.

"Alexis!" She said, as sternly as possible. "Please, for me, your loving grandmother, where are we going?"

"Gram," Alexis stated as they slid into the cool leather seats, "I can't tell you. But before we leave this spot you have to put this on." Alexis held out a strip of black fabric in two fingers.

Martha carefully took it from Alexis. "And just what pray tell am I supposed to do with it."

"Seriously? It's a blindfold. Come on! I promise you'll like it."

Giving her granddaughter a sideways glance, Martha wrapped the strip around her head, covering her eyes, and tied a knot.

"You are so lucky that I love you right now."

Martha could feel the limo stop and her granddaughter climb over her lap to get out. Then there was a hand on her arm, guiding her onto the sidewalk – Alexis no doubt.

"Now will you tell me?"

"No! And stop asking. We'll be there in a couple of minutes." With her hands gripping the woman's arm, Alexis motioned to the doorman not to say anything, and walked into the building. Slowly, they made their way into the elevator, out into the hall, and to the front door. "Hang on."

Ever so softly, Alexis leaned in close to the door and knocked a little rhythm. The same rhythm played back from the opposite side.

"Ok. We're good." Alexis jumped back as the door was opened, and pushed Martha inside.

"Alexis, where are we it smells amazing!" Martha reached behind her head and untied the blindfold, revealing none other than her son's apartment.

"Oh my." For once, she didn't know what to say. They had obviously cleaned up. Every surface shined. The lights were dimmed, but only slightly, and there was a table set for three in the dining room. It was pretty clear that they collaborated on the décor. There were red and silver balloons arranged about the room, candles and glitter on the table, and a banner hanging. _Happy Birthday! _ It read in Alexis' neat cursive printing.

"It's…it's wonderful. I don't know what to say."

She heard Richard's voice in her ear as he took her wrap from her shoulders. "Then don't say anything, just come and eat. I cooked."

"Well," she smirked, "how can I argue with that?" Martha never could resist her son's cooking. She grabbed Alexis's shoulders and strolled to the table.

* * *

Two hours later Martha and Richard took their places on the couch. It had become 'their spot'. Alexis had fallen asleep not too long ago and Richard had carried her up to bed.

"Happy Birthday, Mother." Richard said in one of his calmest voices. He held out a card to her, and a box wrapped in shiny gold paper.

Opening the card Martha saw Richard's jumbled signature, contrasted by Alexis' clean one.

_Fifty-five years young, and getting younger every day_. The card read. Never were more true words written.

She gently peeled back the paper on the box, finding a simple gold picture frame. In it, was a black and white photo from ten years ago. It was a shot Richard had caught on a stroke of luck, of Martha rocking Alexis while she sat in the nursery's rocking chair.

She had no idea that he had that photo on his computer as his desktop background.

Placing the frame and card on the coffee table, Martha leaned in to hug him. "Thank you Richard. I love it." She pushed back and looked into his face. This was one of the rare moments when he didn't put on a tough face for his daughter, or a scandalous act for the press. He was just her son. "And I love you."

"I'm glad you like it. We didn't know what to get you, so when Alexis found this picture, we thought it was perfect."

"Well you were right. It's perfect." She smiled down at the picture one more time, before sinking into the couch again with Richard. "Why don't we just…sit here a while? Maybe watch a little television? Just you and me."

"I would love that, Mother." The edges of his mouth curled up as he reached for the remote control and turned the television on. "But you know there's nothing really on this late at night."

"That's alright, darling. I'm perfectly content just to sit here with you."

* * *

_**April 1, 2007 (Martha 55, Richard 36, Alexis 13)**_

It was late in the evening when Martha sat down to her desk. She had spent her entire day at the theatre. Rehearsal started at nine AM, and there was a performance at three, and then again at eight. Thankfully, she was able to talk her director into letting her have an hour off in between shows so that she could have dinner with her son.

Unfortunately, it would be their last meal together for a couple of weeks. He had decided this year he was going to take Alexis on her first trip out of the country. They were leaving on a two-week cruise around the Caribbean tomorrow.

Well, she thought, at least she would be able to focus on her show. It was doing well, and her company thought that she had a pretty good chance at getting a Tony.

Her mind consumed with the thought of her family going away, she tapped her pen nervously against the desk. Another year, another letter, she mused.

_Dear Edward,_

_Here I am, sitting alone in my apartment, contemplating my life. I have reason to believe that I am much better off than you. _

_Sure I know that you probably have more money, more connections, likely a more glamorous life. But you don't have Richard and Alexis._

_I cannot begin to explain how lucky I am to have them. They are amazing in every way. Richard is still writing Derrick Storm – I can't believe it. I have no idea how he keeps coming up with such fantastically morbid stories, but every single one has been a best seller. _

_Alexis, well, she's a force to be reckoned with. She can out talk anyone on nearly any subject, and has no qualms about telling you exactly what's on her mind. I like to think she got the latter from me. The former – that's more her father's forte. She's a brilliant girl, and talented too. This year she took up the violin, and she's only twelve!_

_Richard's last wife – Gina (I'm sure I've told you about her) – she didn't know how good she had it, she left a wonderful husband and a beautiful girl, but again, I still don't understand why Richard even married her._

_But I know exactly how fortunate I am. The three of us, we're stronger together, we love each other. Like a family should._

_Martha_

_

* * *

_

_**June 27, 2007 **_

London was all too often a dreary place, Edward thought. Most days were cold and overcast, even in the summer. It certainly wasn't helping his mood.

For the past few weeks he hadn't been able to get his mind off of her. His star, his leading lady. Martha Rogers. It just didn't make any sense. There was absolutely no reason for him to be thinking about her.

He had his letters and mementos. They were safely locked away in his desk. His secret life. His secret love.

"Darling," he heard his wife say, "What on Earth is the matter with you? Is there something pertinent we need to discuss? You look distraught."

"Hmm? What?" He turned away from the window and found her seated, sipping from a cup of tea. "No. I've just…got a lot on my mind." With a sigh, he sat down beside her, placing his hand on her delicate knee, "But it's nothing for you to be concerned with my love. Just something that happened a long, long time ago."

Again, his gaze drifted out to the yard. Annalisa watched as his eyes glazed over. She hated when he kept things from her.

"You know Eddie, dearest, you really should get back to work." She stood up and straightened her dress. "I know you have some meetings later today, James told me before I came in."

That was how she got her information – from his secretary – Edward very rarely told her personally. But then again, she herself was busy. She was the head of multiple charities, and as constantly planning galas and fundraisers.

"I'll just get out of your way so you can hopefully get something done."

"What's that? Oh!" He saw her making her way to the door of his office and rushed to open the door for her. "I won't be late. You mentioned a dinner?"

"Yes, for the children's hospital." He leaned in to give her a quick kiss. Just before she left Annalisa turned, staring him straight in the eyes. "You're very lucky to have these opportunities for appearances Edward. Don't be late."

After locking his door, Edward returned to his desk and began to roll his fingers against the edge, his eyes drifting to his bottom drawer. Against his better judgment he bent down to unlock it, removing the wooden box inside. He leaned back in his chair, and prepared to waste an hour in his memories.

Yea, he thought shaking his head, he was lucky alright.

* * *

**As it turns out, this story is kind of taking a totally different turn that my first idea, so I hope your still with me! Thanks for all the support! Any reviews, recommendations, questions, or suggestions are welcome! **

**I can't promise when the next chapter will be up exactly, but expect sooner rather than later - provided life doesn't get in the way again.**

**Hit that button! Let me know what you think!**


	7. Untruth

**So I feel absolutely terrible that it's taken me so long to update. But hopefully the length will make up for it! As usual, if you recognize it, it's not mine.**

**On to the story! Enjoy!**

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_**February 14, 2008 (Martha 56, Richard 36, Alexis 14)**_

Valentine's Day. A day for the pitifully romantic to spend far too much money on candy, which they would complain about later, cards that they would throw away, and flowers that would, within mere days, die. Martha absolutely loathed Valentine's Day.

Well, at least, this Valentine's Day.

As she stood in the empty room she thought about her ordeal. She should have known better she thought to herself. No man is that perfect.

Allan Matthews. He had been such a wonderful, wonderful man. Richard even approved of him – as much as a son could approve of his mother's boyfriend. With the low simmer of distrust hidden underneath a friendly smile.

They had met each other in a theatre, and, well, everyone knew Martha had a soft spot for actors. He was auditioning for the role of her lover in a new play. Of course, neither one got their parts, but that didn't bother them a bit. Immediately after the two were released, Allan approached Martha with the thought of a date.

Soon Martha found herself caught up in a whirlwind romance. Complete with candlelight dinners, walks on the beach, and secluded box seats for whatever performance she wanted to see. For weeks he showered her with gifts and surprises. And before she knew it, they were engaged.

Allan had arranged for one of the most extravagant and beautiful proposals a girl could imagine. He took her on a hot air balloon ride at sunset, to a meadow surrounded by trees lit with lanterns. So many that if she hadn't known better, she would've thought they were stars. In the center of it all was a table set for two. It had been the most fantastic meal Martha had eaten in…almost forty years, and when it came time for desert, he had reached into a basket and pulled out a single pink cake. Painted along the side were two words - _Marry Me_ - and a small black box was resting on top.

Not two weeks later they two were married, and living very comfortably in a split-level apartment just outside of Times Square. After all, he had told her, a star should be near her people. He told her he would handle everything, and she wouldn't have to worry about anything but her career. So, he convinced her that they should put their respective savings into a joint bank account. This way – according to Allan – they would each be safe if something should happen to the other.

And they were happy. He continued to romance her, and she continued to love every minute of it.

But that was six months ago.

Now she sat on her last box of belongings in a darkened apartment. Her head was resting in her hands; a fog of sadness could be seen in her eyes. The bright lights of Times Square seemed to mock her.

"Mother? Is that the uh…last box?"

"What?" Quickly Martha stood, fighting back the tears, and faced her son. She could see that he was just as upset by this whole thing as her. "Oh, yes Richard. I just…thank you."

Carefully Richard crossed the floor. He knew that this was hard for her. She was such an independent person, had even insisted on keeping her own last name, and he hated seeing her so distraught. It had taken a lot for her to trust a man so much. To let herself love someone other than he and Alexis.

He could kill Allan Matthews.

If only they knew where he was.

"For what Mother?" Richard reached out and pulled her into a warm embrace. Somehow, they had both mastered the art of the perfect hug.

Putting her hands on his chest, Martha leaned back to look at him. For a man who had such a good poker face, he certainly couldn't hide anything from her. "Just, I know that this is hard for you, and I'm sorry for dragging you into my problems."

In one quick motion he pulled away from her and bent down to pick up the last box.

"Nonsense. You are my Mother, and as much as you may drive me crazy and make me want to pull my hair out, I love you." He leaned down and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "And I will always be there for you, and will do whatever it is you need me to do."

Martha watched as her son moved toward the door. He really was too good for her.

"And if Allan ever shows his face in this city again, and happens to be lucky enough to see me, I'll tie him to the ceiling by his tongue and rip his nails out personally."

"Oh, Richard. What did I do to deserve you?"

"Well, that I cannot answer for you, Mother. But, why don't we just agree that you'd be lost without me and wouldn't know what to do with yourself?"

Rolling her eyes, Martha slapped him playfully in the back.

"Sure, whatever you say."

"But I told you, we really are happy you're coming to stay with us. Alexis misses you. And, I think I could get used to having you around too."

Laughing, she took one step out the door before turning back. "You know, Richard, why don't you head on down to the car, and I'll meet you in a moment. I just want to…take one, last look around."

Unsure of how to comfort his mother, Richard decided to let her have a minute. He had been there – sort of – and knew that sometimes you just needed to be depressed before you could feel better.

"Alright, but don't be too long. Alexis will kill me if we're late for dinner. She's taking some cooking class at school, and has decided to serve us her latest assignment for dinner."

"Don't worry I'll just be a second."

She watched as he walked down the hallway, and turned to enter an elevator. Looking into the now darkened apartment, she saw glimpses of her life with Allan. They were so happy together. She remembered the nights when she would come home late from a performance, and he'd be waiting with champagne and a meal. The Sunday morning breakfasts they shared. The quiet evenings they spent sitting together, listening to music as they talked about their days.

And it had all been a lie.

But one thing Martha knew was the truth. She had an amazing family waiting for her, and by the end of the night she'd be laughing and talking with her son and granddaughter, Allan a mere blur in her memory.

* * *

_**September 28, 2008 (Martha 57, Richard 37, Alexis 14)**_

With heavy steps Alexis Castle approached her building.

"Good afternoon Miss Castle," the doorman said, adding a tip of his hat, "I trust you had another good day at school?"

"I guess." She sighed and motioned to the doors. "Has he gone out at all?

"Not that I've seen. Is there an issue?"

"No," she said shoving her hands into her pockets, "just working on the book."

Alexis sighed as he opened the door for her, and began her trip upstairs. Hopefully he had made some progress, or at least gotten dressed. When she left for school he was slumped in his desk chair with a very thin outline for the end of his newest Derrick Storm book. She heard mutterings of character flaws, plot holes, and general frustration – she was beginning to think he would do something drastic.

As she approached the door to their loft she could hear an argument on the other side. Her dad was part of it - that much she knew for sure. But the other person, well…it was a woman, but it wasn't her grandmother. No. It couldn't be.

She frantically fumbled with her keys as she tried to open the door. Throwing it open, the true volume of the scene reached her ears. And sure enough, it was Gina he was fighting with.

Alexis rolled her eyes before tossing her keys on the table and laying her coat across the chair.

"Alexis!" Rick yelled out. He raced across the room and snatched his daughter up from behind. Before she could do anything about it he was spinning her around in circles.

"Dad! Dad! Put me down!"

He obliged and put her back on her own two feet, although he kept her face in his hands.

"You'll never guess what I did!"

Alexis had a feeling that whatever he had done was the reason behind her ex-stepmother's visit. But she knew her father. He was clearly excited; she couldn't help but indulge him.

"What?" She said, clapping her hands against his.

"I finished the book!" Rick's eyes grew wide with energy as he watched his daughter's do the same.

"Dad that's amazing! You really finished it?"

"Oh he finished it alright," Gina interrupted, putting air quotes around the term 'finished'. "He finished the whole damned series!"

Alexis dropped her arms to her sides and looked at her father with a very confused look on her face. His only reaction was a thin, boyish smile, and the lift in his brow.

"Dad?" She questioned sternly. "What did you do?"

"I told you," he replied in an innocent voice, "I finished the book."

"Why is it I don't think that's all you did?"

"Because," Gina barked, "he killed Storm. He killed one of the most read characters of the decade, and doesn't even have a half-decent explanation as to why!"

Rick spun on his heel and faced his publisher-slash-ex-wife. "I told you Gina, I'm sick of Derrick Storm." He spoke to her with an almost sickly tone as he approached his liquor cabinet. "I've done everything I could with him. He's boring me."

"Richard I don't care if he bores you. He entertains your readers! They love Derrick Storm! You've had them eating out of the palm of your hand for years!"

"Gina," he swung his head to look at her, "look at my face. Does it look like I care?"

The woman let out a sound of frustration before crossing the room to the counter where he was standing. She firmly smacked her hand down, moving her face so they were looking eye-to-eye.

"A bullet in his head. One goddamn shot in his goddamn head. Really? They're going to rip you to shreds. You'll be lucky if you get even one decent review."

Alexis had slid down into the nearest chair, engrossed in the dispute. She loved watching the way her father handled Gina. With a careless arrogance and pride. It was moments like this – when he was standing his ground, defending his vision – that made her the most proud of him.

She turned her head when she saw her grandmother sweep down the stairs. As was her routine, Martha met her son at the counter, where he poured them each a drink.

"Gina, you said you wanted a finished novel, I gave you a finished novel. Now, if there's nothing else I can help you with I would like to enjoy an evening with my family. Without thinking about books, or readers, or reviews."

With another groan she was grabbing her purse and heading for the door. "Richard Castle, I swear you are going to be the death of me!" She marched her way out, slamming the door behind her.

"We can only hope." Martha said. Rick nodded in agreement as they lifted their glasses to each other.

* * *

_**December 17, 2008 (Martha 57, Richard 37, Alexis 15)**_

"Richard, honestly, I thought you were writing in here?"

Martha waltzed into the office, only to find Richard dressed in a grey t-shirt, his boxers, and a pair of tube socks. His legs were propped up on the top of the desk, his laptop balanced on his thighs. And he was cackling at something on the screen.

"Oh!" The sound of her voice startled him. "I…was, but I'm taking a break."

"Really?" Martha questioned, sarcasm just oozing through. "That's the excuse you're going for today?" She slowly began to make her way around to his side of the desk. "As far as I can tell you've been taking a break for the past two months."

She leaned over his shoulder, placing one fist on her hip, and squinted at the screen. "Now was pray tell is so funny in here? I was in the middle of getting dressed but the sound of your fun interrupted me."

Richard glanced over and decided his mother had certainly not been 'in the middle' of dressing. She was draped from head to toe in layers of peacock blue fabric, beading, and shimmer.

"Nothing you'd be interested in, Mother." He was still giggling as he spoke. "I'm just browsing the always entertaining world of YouTube."

"You what? Don't you have a book due soon?"

"Yes Mother," he whined, "I will have something, I just don't know what exactly it'll be yet."

"Richard, you can't just keep moping around here doing who-knows-what all day. Alexis has school and I have a show, neither one of us have the time to spend babysitting you to make sure something gets done."

"Mother, I do not need a babysitter. After all, I survived my childhood just fine, didn't I? And look at how successful I turned out to be."

She stared him dead in the eyes. "Need I remind you that you're sitting her in your underwear watching videos of sneezing animals over the internet?"

"Maybe so, but I get paid plenty to do it!" He continued to smirk as he placed the laptop back on the desk, and turned his chair, folding his hands in his lap."

"Ah, yes! But you won't be any more if you don't get your act together and write another best-seller." She sang.

Martha gave his attire another once over with a sigh. "Now, I have a luncheon to get to before my rehearsal," she said before leaning over, taking both sides of his face in her hands, "please, please get some work done!" she begged.

"Can't" he replied, leaping to his feet. "Alexis and I have a date for cupcakes at Magnolia during her lunch break. And wouldn't you say that I should change?"

As he talked he skipped up the stairs. He was almost too happy that he wouldn't be stuck in front of a computer screen for the next hour. Martha Rogers knew her son was blocked. She knew that Alexis knew he was blocked. Hell, everyone in the whole building probably knew he was blocked. She just couldn't get him to admit it.

Almost running, Richard came back down, fully clothed this time.

"Come, Mother," he held out his arm for her to take, "why don't we share a cab?"

She just couldn't resist him when he acted like this. He could be such a gentleman. Hesitantly she accepted the gesture.

"Alright, Richard." She paused to wag her finger in his face. "But tonight you will get something written. Even if it's a letter to your fans explaining that you can't write anymore because your publisher has decided to fulfill her promise and kill you."

He laughed at the thought as they continued to walk out of the loft.

"Sure. Whatever you say, Mother."

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_**March 10, 2009 (Martha 57, Richard 37, Alexis 15)**_

Last night, or rather very early that morning Martha Rogers had watched her son saunter in with a grin on his face. Despite her fun with…Burt, yes, Burt the magician, she had heard him say something to Alexis about a homicide, or the police, or something. It was the details she had missed out on.

She made her way down the stairs, and spotted Richard seated at the dining room table. His books were stacked in an almost fort-like structure, along with sheets of paper.

"Richard, what can you possibly have done now?" She strutted over to the refrigerator for a glass of water. After all her fun last night she needed something with a little less of a punch. "Alexis said you're involved in a homicide investigation? And here I thought the incident with the police horse was extreme." She turned her head to look at him, a concerned look on her face. "Do I even want to know how you managed this one?"

From her place in the kitchen she could see his back, hunched over the sheets on the table. She watched as he ran a hand through his hair and shrugged his shoulders.

"There's a killer copying the murder scenes from my books. They want my help."

Martha scoffed at that the thought. "You're joking."

"Nope." He said as he walked in to join her. "Serious as a heart attack. Or, I guess serious as a murder."

She tilted her glass towards him and rolled her eyes.

"Ok, you're right. That was bad." Richard picked up his own glass and leaned next to her against the counter. "But they really are asking for my help. And…I think I may have found the solution to my problem."

"Problem? Which one? Richard, please, be more specific."

"Hardy har har, Mother, very funny. All I'm saying is I think I know how to solve my writing issue." Casually, he returned to the table and began to pile up pages and books.

"You're not going to try and be a homicide detective are you?" She called out. "You do know that requires some regard for safety?"

"You are on a roll this morning aren't you Mother?" He grabbed his coat off the chair, swinging it over his shoulders. "But no, not exactly. Now, I hate to cut you off, but I must head in to the precinct. I believe I have some notes that could be helpful."

Martha eyed him as he gathered up his things and headed for the door. "Whatever Richard." She added. "Just don't do anything stupid!"

"Now where's the fun in that?" He replied, closing the door behind himself.

Martha sighed as she emptied her glass and set it out to dry. She decided it would be wise to get dressed for the day. There was no doubt in her mind that she'd have to bail Richard out of something by the end of it.

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_**April 1, 2010 (Martha 58, Richard 39, Alexis 16)**_

Martha Rogers couldn't help but be uneasy. Just three days ago she thought she was going to lose him, and today he was going back. And on his birthday, too.

She had decided it would be in everyone's best interest if she came over from Chet's to see him off. If anything, she needed to see that he was alright, and Alexis could probably use come company before she left for school.

She used her own key to let herself in, and sat down at one of the barstools with a cup of tea.

"Mother!" She spun around to see Richard coming down the stairs as he finished knotting his tie. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Well for one," she reached out her arms to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek, "I wanted to wish you a Happy Birthday!"

He broke from her grasp and began to make a pot of coffee. "Aww, thank you. But you didn't need to do that. I mean, we're still having dinner later, right?"

"Yes, yes, of course." She reached up and began to play with her earring. "And I just wanted to see you off. I mean, everyone's officially back to work today? After everything that happened?"

"Yep!" He lifted the mug to his lips, but quickly jerked it back. "Ow! Still too hot."

She let out a small laugh and his forgetfulness. The coffee was the same temperature every morning, and every morning he tried to drink it before it had time to cool.

"Has our Detective already left for the day?" She questioned. Since the explosion Kate Beckett had been living here. Martha knew Richard made the offer with a hint of guilt in his stomach.

"Yes she has Mother. She wanted to get an early start on some paperwork, and see Lanie" he nodded.

"Gram! What are you doing here?" Alexis darted down the stairs and rushed into her grandmother, arms stretched out.

"Good morning my love," Martha sang out, "I just came to tell your father 'Happy Birthday'," she reached out and tucked a few stray hairs behind her granddaughter's ear, "and to see if you wanted to talk before you left for school. I miss you, darling."

Alexis jumped in for another hug. No one could get enough of Martha's hugs. "I miss you too! And I would love to talk, but I have to get to school early for a meeting with my guidance counselor."

"Well that's alright, we'll talk tonight then. I don't want to keep you." She gave Alexis a pat on the cheek before letting her get her things.

"Ooh!" Richard gasped after noticing the time. "I've got to go. I promised everyone I'd bring breakfast this morning. Alexis, you want me to drive you?"

"Um, sure Dad. Since when do you drive?"

"Since I have three dozen donuts to bring in. Lots of hungry detectives, and I don't want to risk any unnecessary arrests."

"Ahh," Martha broke in, "I see Detective Beckett's rubbing off on you."

"Now, now, Mother. Don't jump to any conclusions. Everyone's just had…a lot to deal with the past few days, so I'm…taking it easy."

"Well how considerate of you? Now," she said, patting his shoulder, "go on, I need to grab a few things, so I'll lock up. I'll see you two for dinner tonight."

"See you later, Gram!" Alexis called as she flew out the door.

"Bye, Mother. Alexis and I will pick you up later."

"Sounds wonderful. Oh, and Richard!"

"Yes?"

"Give Kate a hug from me would you?"

"Sure, Mother. I will."

Martha watched as he closed the door, and slowly turned back into the counter. How could she have allowed him to be so calm over this? For goodness sake, a man tried to blow up Kate, and Richard was the one who found her in the rubble. For all she knew he could have died trying to be a hero. But that was her son. And no one could talk him out of anything he wanted to do – not even running into a burning building.

With shaky hands she opened a drawer and took out a piece of Richard's stationary. It had his trademark in the upper right corner: 'CASTLE' with a pen striking through the letter 'A'. She'd have to explain that one.

As she returned to her seat she grabbed a pen off the counter, and refilled her cup.

_Dear Edward, _

_Yes, yes, I know. I haven't written in quite a while. I believe the last time I sent you a letter was after I moved in with Richard – you know, after my husband stole my life savings? Well, now I'm living with a new man – Chet. An old high school friend. I don't know exactly how far our relationship will go, but it's something real, for sure._

_But now, on to Richard! About a year and a half ago he killed off Derrick Storm. Said he was 'bored'- that there were no more surprises. But then he got terrible, terrible writer's block. He couldn't write a thing for months. And then a murderer came along._

_That's right, a murderer. A man who was copying the murders from Richard's books. Actually it turned out that he was framing someone else to try and get his father's money, but that's not my point. The primary detective on the case pulled him in for a consult, and well, Richard got inspired. Now he's shadowing her – Kate Beckett - on her cases, writing a new series about 'Nikki Heat'. It's doing fantastically well! _

_I'm impressed with how much he's changed for Detective Beckett. I don't think either one of them quite realize it though. Richard certainly likes the girl. May even be falling for her. Alexis and I are hoping that they open their eyes and do something about it. For now, he's quite content to follow her around like a puppy. _

_Up until a few days ago everything was perfect. Richard was writing and working cases. I've never seen him so dedicated to something. He loves working at the precinct. But then an obsessed killer began murdering in the name of Nikki Heat. Long story short – he started calling and emailing Kate, and leaving messages in bullets. The FBI moved in and, let's just say things got intense. The killer blew up Kate's apartment, and Richard stormed in after her. _

_Now I just can't help but worry about him. He acts like such a child that he neglects to see the danger in this whole shadowing gig. At any rate, he is a changed man. I for one, am very proud of him._

_I hope everything is going as well for you as it is for us. And don't worry about Richard, I'm sure he'll be fine. I should probably take my own advice._

_Martha _

Calmer, Martha folded the letter and placed it in her purse. She would mail it out later, after she got home and had a drink. She knew she really should listen to herself and stop worrying. But 'should' and 'would' were two different things.

Today was going to be a long day.

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_**May 1, 2010 (Martha 58, Richard 39, Alexis 16)**_

It was a cold and rainy day outside Edward Samuels' window. Inside, he sat at his desk, slaving away over trade agreements, press statements, and various other documents. He absolutely hated days like this. They made him long for sunny days across the sea.

Edward sighed and leaned back in his chair, swiveling to look out at the waterfall coming down. Just as his eyes slipped shut, and his mind was beginning to drift, the door to his office flew open, slamming against the wall.

"Edward!" He heard his wife calling. Her tone wavering. "What is this?"

He held his view of the rain outside the window. He could hear the heels of her stilettos clicking as she crossed the room. "What is what my dear?"

"This." Turning back around he saw her smack an envelope against the desk. He looked up at her face, only to find her eyes glassy. "It's a letter for you. From a woman. In New York." Annalisa stared at his expressionless face. "Now tell me Edward, why is there a letter for you from some woman in another country?"

He grabbed the letter from its place underneath her hand. "Why do you have this?"

"It somehow got into my mail. Do you have more from her? Wha – who is she Edward? And why aren't you saying anything."

Annalisa couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Edward noticed her tremors and stood to guide her to the large armchair sitting in the corner.

"She's uh..Someone from the summer I spent in New York. We sort of…had something for a while."

"What kind of something?" She asked, taking his handkerchief.

He began to pace in front of her, rubbing the back of his head. "Ah, a son?"

"What!" Annalisa leapt to her feet. "You have a son? How long have you known about this? Edward, where are you going?"

With nervous steps he bent down behind his desk, and emerged holding with a wooden box.

"Here," he said, handing her the box, "her name is Martha, and she started writing me after he was born." Slowly she opened the lid, and saw the number of letters inside.

Edward began to tell the rest of the story, starting from when he met Martha, through what he had learned about his son, up through the last letter. His wife listened intently, sniffling every once in a while.

"And that," he started, pointing at the letter resting on the desk, "should be the latest update."

"Well Edward, I'm not going to lie. I'm positively furious with you. You shouldn't have kept his to me, instead of hiding the truth for almost forty years. But it seems you have a choice to make."

His face twisted with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you need to man up and write back, to the woman who, may I remind you, is the mother of your child, and either explain yourself and try and apologize for what you've done to all involved parties, or cut them off. Tell her to leave you alone if that's what you want, tell her you're sorry, I don't care, but you can't sit around here and do nothing anymore."

She stood from the chair and marched to the door. "And if you don't take care of it, I will."

Edward leaned a hip against his desk, one arm folded across his chest, the other cradling his head.

"What should I do?" He whispered to himself.

He gazed again to the rain, and made one of the toughest choices of his life.

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**And now we're into the thick of it! I hope everyone's still into this! Let me know what you think, please!**

**For the record Magnolia cupcakes are amazing! I had like six of them when I was in New York!**

**Thanks to all my amazing readers and reviewers! And lots of love to DetectiveBeckett85, castletasmic, and all my awesome Castletv chat friends, for all their help and support!**

**Don't forget to press the button! You know I love hearing what you have to say!**


	8. Time

**I know it's been longer than I would have liked, but I think you're really going to enjoy this. Thank you to everyone who's been reading and keeping up with me here. I really appreciate it. As always, I don't own it.**

**Enjoy!**

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May 12, 2010

Martha Rogers loved living with Chet. He was such a great man. More than that, he was a great friend. She had never really had someone who she could just talk to. About anything. He always listened to her stories about the theatre and whatever she had done on a particular day. Sure, she knew some of it bored him, but what mattered to her was that he cared enough to listen.

Tonight, she was planning on surprising him. Alexis had gone shopping with her that afternoon and they bought all the trimmings for a home-cooked Italian dinner. She was still stirring the noodles when he walked through the door.

"Chet, dear." Martha called from the kitchen. "I hope you didn't make plans for dinner tonight, I wanted to cook something special, just for you." She had walked out to where Chet stood in the foyer of his apartment. And saw him staring at the pile of mail in his hand.

"Oh? Sure," he lifted his gaze to see her standing in front of him. Just looking at her, her beautiful blue eyes, made his heart jump. "Sounds fabulous."

Martha cocked her head at his bland tone. "What is it?"

He walked in to the kitchen table, still looking at the envelope, as she followed him. "Um, I don't know exactly." He turned his body so that she could see over his shoulder. "You have mail…from England."

Suddenly Martha felt her breath catch in her throat. A tugging at her heart. Mail from England? There was just no way that was possible. It had been so long, why should this year be any different?

"Martha. Martha, are you alright." Chet placed the mail on the table, and put his hands on her arms, rubbing up and down. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

With a twitch Martha brought herself back in the moment. "Nothing, it's just-," Her voice sounded distant, and frankly, scared.

"Here," he interrupted, "let's sit down. I'll get you a drink."

Quietly she sat down at the table, folding her hands in her lap. She couldn't stop herself from looking at the envelope. That is, until Chet sat down to block her view. He lovingly held out a cold glass to her.

"Now, why don't you tell me what has you so spooked?"

"Do you really want to know?" She said after taking a long, soothing drink of water.

Chet reached over and place his hand on her knee. The feel of his warm, loving hand made her smile.

"Martha, I care about you, very deeply, and if something is upsetting you, I want to try and help to make it better."

"You see," she said looking into his sweet face, "the whole fact of the matter is that I honestly do know who Richard's father is." Chet's eyebrows lifted nearly a foot at hearing this. "And for his entire life I've written to him. Just, you know, telling him what Richard was up to, Alexis, how the books are doing, occasionally ranting about how angry I was for what he did."

Martha felt the tears pushing at her eyes.

Carefully, Chet moved his chair closer to hers, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "What? What is it?"

After letting out a heavy sigh, Martha told Chet everything. And, as always, he listened.

"He's never written back before." She concluded, dabbing a tissue at the corners of her eyes.

"Hmm." He reached over the tabletop to grab the letter. "Well," he said, as he fingered the edges of the envelope, "maybe…maybe you should read it. He could want to make amends, or, I suppose not, but you're never going to know if you don't at least look at it." He leaned back in the chair and held it out to her. "But, it's up to you."

She could feel the nerves bouncing around in her stomach as she took the envelope from him.

"I think I'm going to need something stronger than water for this."

With a small laugh Chet stood, patting her shoulder. "I'll just let you have some space then." He bent down to kiss the top of her head before heading into the next room. He wanted to be close by if she needed him.

Martha turned the envelope over in her hands. She saw the messy penmanship. It was alarmingly similar to Richard's. Slowly, she began to peel back the seal, removing sheets of paper. The same writing shown here too.

_Dearest Martha,_

_I know you must be absolutely furious with me. I have ignored you for far too long, and for that I apologize. I couldn't possibly think that that would be enough for you. _

_I shouldn't have left the way I did that summer. I should have stayed, at least tried to see you through. I just couldn't seem to drum up enough courage to actually do it. For that, I will never forgive myself. Not a day goes by when I don't think of you. I may be halfway around the world, but part of me will always be in New York with you. _

_I truly am happy that you have moved on. You deserve so much better than I. It would kill me to think that I had kept you, the smart, funny, brilliant woman I knew from enjoying life. You are far better off now than you ever would have been with me. And that's no lie. _

_My life is pretty much an endless string of business meetings and appointments. My wife is controlling and obnoxious. And this city, well, if you've ever heard that London was cold and wet, you heard correctly. It's miserable here. I regret ever thinking that this was the right decision. _

_I really am overjoyed at the thought of Richard. I imagine he is every bit as fantastic as you say he is. I only wish I would have gotten to meet him. It is so wonderful to know that he has been so successful; I've no doubt that you are an amazing mother. You always had the biggest heart. And it's even more wonderful to think that he has his own child. You say she's brilliant, Alexis? I wouldn't be at all surprised if 'brilliant' were an understatement. She has an incredible family from what I hear. _

_No, I'm not planning on returning to New York. I don't feel that that would be at all right. You and Richard have made your own lives, and I don't want to disrupt them now. Enclosed with this letter for you, is a letter for Richard. I'm not saying you have to give it to him; I'm just giving you the option. In it? I'm sure you can imagine what's in it. _

_No amount of words could possibly explain how horribly sorry I feel for what I did to you. I will never be able to fully express my apologies. _

_I never stopped loving you,_

_Edward_

Wiping a tear from her cheek, Martha looked at the second envelope that now rested in her lap.

_For Richard_ was all it said.

"Chet?" she called with a shaky voice. Almost immediately he popped his head in.

"Yes? Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I…um, do you mind if we skip dinner tonight? I need to go see Richard."

"Not at all, my dear." He tenderly took her free hand in his. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No," she looked down at the letter, "no. This is something I need to do myself."

* * *

It was a rare instance for Rick Castle to be in this position. With their respectively busy schedules, they pretty much only shared meals and, maybe, a quick fencing match or laser-tag game. Alexis was hardly ever homework-free on a weeknight, and he was usually either writing or helping with a case.

Rick loved moments like this. He was lying on their living room couch, sandwiched between Alexis and the back cushions. His left arm propped up his head; he was simply running his fingers through his daughter's soft, red hair. She had fallen asleep while they were watching _Mrs. Doubtfire_. It was one of their favorite movies. For some reason, they would only watch it together. Never one without the other.

The movie was still running when he heard the click of the lock, and his mother's footsteps come in.

"Richard."

"Hmm?" His eyes never left his daughter's face. He just loved watching her. She was so peaceful and angelic when she slept.

"Do you mind, uh, moving? I really need to talk to you about something."

"What?" Rick looked up at his mother, saw the distress in her eyes. "Sure. Just let me…take care of this one real quick."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw his mother drag herself over to a barstool as he picked up Alexis. Carrying her to her room, he saw Martha put her elbows on the table, and her forehead in her hands.

He returned a couple of minutes later, after making sure the light of his life was safely tucked in. Plopped himself down on the stool next to his mother.

"So what brings you here on such a lovely evening?"

Martha felt as if her head weighed fifty pounds. She turned, resting the side of her head against her still perched hands, and saw her son. He was the most amazing son she could have possibly asked for. Somehow, someway, they had made it through everything life threw at them. When he was young, she had been forced to drag him around the country with her. She knew that it had been hard for him, but if anything, she told herself, he made his own adventures, and the independence only made him stronger.

"Richard. It's…about your father."

Rick cocked his head to the side, and wrinkled his left eye. His father? That just didn't make any sense.

"What do you mean my father? I thought we didn't know who he was."

Martha swiveled the stool to face him. Hesitantly, she placed her hand on his arm, never taking her eyes off of his.

"That's not entirely true." She watched as his face fell to the floor. With a shaky grip she took the letter addressed to him out of her bag, placing it on the counter.

"What is this, Mother? What are you not telling me?"

"It's a letter. From him." Eying his hand reaching for the envelope, she thought about how to proceed. "I've always known who he was Richard, but you have to understand what happened." She rushed to grab his hand, afraid of what he would think of her.

"Alright then." He said, folding his arms across his chest. "Tell me then. Tell me why you've kept my father from me all my life."

Martha sighed as she straightened up to start. "I was only nineteen Richard. Nineteen. And I was basically alone in New York. Then this man waltzes into my life, and positively sweeps me off my feet. He was so…different, from anyone else I had ever known, and we…well, I guess you could say we fell in love."

She let out a small laugh and smile and the memories she had from that summer. It was spectacular.

"And then, I found out about you." She reached out and laid her hand on his again. "I was so excited, and so happy. So sure that he would be too. I had gone over after my show to see him, and tell him, and then he…he-"

Rick was no fool. He could see that this wasn't easy for her. Unsure of his own emotions, he lifted his hand up to brush her shoulder.

"What, Mother? What happened?" His tone had lost its previously edgy quality, and softened down to the comfort she needed.

Martha faced him again. "He told me he had to leave. Go back to England. He was engaged. And I, I told him to leave me alone, that we didn't need him." She let herself sniffle for a moment before speaking again.

"I'm so, so sorry Richard. I know I should have told you before, but I never quite knew how to do it. I've written him a letter nearly every year. Just so that he knew exactly what he was missing. Up until now he's never replied. He sent that along with one to me. And before you ask I have no idea what's in it."

Groaning, Rick stood, and held out his had for his mother. This was too much to take in all at once. He needed some time alone to think.

"Mother, thank you. For telling me. I can only imagine what you must be feeling." He could feel her body struggle to stay with him. "I can honestly tell you, though, that I'm not angry with you."

"You're - you're not?"

"No, Mother," he started as he reached for the door, "Don't get me wrong, I could get really angry if I wanted to, but quite frankly, it just doesn't seem like it would do either of us any good. You are a wonderful mother." He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her into a hug. "I just…need some time to process all this."

"Ok kiddo. Just, please, give me a call. We'll talk."

He pulled open the door for her, and gently guided her out. "I will. I promise. You just need to give me some time."

Without another word Martha walked out of the apartment, and down the hall. And Richard returned to the counter, staring at the letter.

What was he supposed to do now? He had waited his entire childhood for his father to come to him. Waited for word that he even had a father.

He rubbed his face with his hands, thinking about his options. The bottom line was, he didn't know what to do.

So, he did the only thing that made sense. He reached for his cell phone, and made the call.

"_Beckett."_

"Hey, uh, it's me…Castle. Do you mind meeting me in the morning?"

"_I guess not. I'm off tomorrow so, yea, that should be fine. What's up?"_

"I sort of need some help, and I didn't know who else to talk to."

"_Sure Castle. Just let me know where and when."_

_

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_**Alright, it's looking like there will only be one more chapter to this. Thank you again for all the support, alerts, favorites, everything! You all are amazing!  
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	9. Advice

**Alright. I stand corrected. This is the second-to-last chapter. I really hope you like it! No suprise, I don't own anything you recognize.**

**Enjoy!**

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_**May 13, 2010**_

Kate Beckett stood leaning against the side of a Central Park coffee cart. She had already bought her own steaming cup, and was waiting for Castle to show. She had thought about it on her walk here, and still couldn't figure out what he could possible need her for.

A warm breeze played with her hair while she scanned the park. Soon enough, she noticed him coming down the path. Strange, she thought, he certainly didn't look like his cheery self. And, now that she thought about it, he didn't exactly sound so great on the phone last night.

Rick Castle slowly made his way up to the coffee cart. His feet just barely making it off the ground. He felt as if there were two hundred pound weights on his shoulders. His head was throbbing, and his stomach was raw. Coffee probably wasn't a good idea. But why the hell should he care right now?

"Morning Castle," Kate said, raising her eyebrows at his state of dishevelment.

A small "hey," was the only reply she got. Something was definitely up. She watched him order coffee with as few words as possible. No smile, no jokes even. He turned back to her, sipping from the small plastic lid.

"You, uh, want to go sit somewhere Castle?"

"Sure," he started, and pointed toward a large oak tree on a nearby hill, "how about there?"

"Looks perfect."

Kate didn't know what to say at all. Usually, at this point in the morning Castle was already talking her ear off. This was new territory for her, to have him be so quiet. She didn't like it one bit.

Slowly the two walked side-by-side to the tree, and sat down, shaded by its wide branches. Not a word passed between them.

"So Castle," Kate said as she leaned back against the tree's trunk, "what's this about. I've never known you to want to just talk. Let alone actually admit you need my help with something."

The lack of rebuttal was all the evidence she needed to conclude that there was, without a doubt, something wrong. Instantly her thoughts jumped to Alexis. But if that were the case there was no way he would've waited all night to do something, aside from the fact that he'd be bouncing off the walls right now. No, she thought, this was something he couldn't handle, and that meant it was something big.

Sighing Rick reached into his coat pocket. "Well…" He plopped the letter down on the grass in between them, and just stared at it.

"What's this?" Kate asked, reaching for the envelope.

"Letter from my father." He continued to examine the blades of grass next to his left knee.

Kate wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Your father?"

"Yup. My father." Rick slid down the tree until he was lying in the grass, parallel to Kate. His head propped up by a root.

"But I thought you didn't know him."

"I didn't…I…don't. But apparently my mother has known all my life, and never told me."

Kate simply looked down at the distraught man beside her, willing him to continue.

"She says that she met him during that first summer she was in New York. He saw her show and asked her out, and then, you know, they fell in love, and all that jazz. You know, like in all those romance novels you say you don't like."

Kate rolled her eyes before allowing him to keep going.

"Anyway, fast forward a couple of months. She finds out she's pregnant and goes to tell him. But when she gets there he tells her that he has to leave and go back to England because he's engaged. And then…. she got mad and left. Never heard from him again."

"Well, Castle, it sounds to me like Martha did what almost any woman would've done in her position." She paused as Rick rolled over on his stomach, resting his chin on his hands. "I mean, some guy leads you on for a whole summer, makes you fall in love, makes you think he returns the sentiment, and then he leaves? And it certainly doesn't help that the whole time he was engaged to some other woman. Hell, she was this guy's other woman, and he didn't even respect her enough to keep her safe."

Rick sighed, pushing himself up on his elbows. "I get that, I really do. But she's been writing to him."

"What?"

"Yea," he started with a hint of anger in his voice, "she's written him letters almost every year of my life. I just don't see how it's taken him nearly forty years to actually respond. She said this is the first time he has."

"Well, do you believe her?"

"I…yes, I guess do. I don't think she would've been able to keep it form me if he had written before now. You've met my mother. She has no filter."

Rick let himself laugh with her for a moment. It felt good. "Besides, it wouldn't make sense for her to choose now to give me a letter, if there were more before it. I just don't know what to do." He lifted his eyes up to meet hers. "I didn't sleep at all last night."

Well that explained the tote bags she saw underneath his eyes.

Kate fiddled with the edges of the envelope in her hands. It was pretty much in perfect condition, save a couple of wrinkles from riding around in a pocket. And it didn't take a detective to see that it was still sealed.

"So you haven't read it?"

"I – can't. It's just too much to take in at once." He moved to a sitting position against the tree. He draped his arms over his kneecaps, and tilted his head back against the wood. "I've waited my whole life for just a hint, a taste of who he was, and now it turns out that my mother's known exactly that the whole time."

Carefully Kate reached over and put her hand over his arm. She looked him dead in the eyes when he turned his head.

"Castle, you have to read it. If you don't you're just going to keep wondering. And trust me, not knowing, and remembering that you can, will eat away at you. Sometimes…ignorance is certainly not bliss."

For a few moments the pair stayed silent. Listening to the sounds of vendors calling out prices, children running and playing, dogs barking, birds chirping. There was so much life around them.

Finally, Kate couldn't take it anymore. She shoved her finger underneath the fold and tore open the seal. Rick watched in wonder as she pulled out the letter, unfolded it, and put it in his hands.

"Here," she said as she closed his fingers over the paper, "if you can't read it to yourself, read it to me. Out loud."

He shot her a look of disbelief out of the corner of his eye.

"Will you just listen to me for once!" She huffed. "Pretend you're reading me one of your books.

Hardly trying to hide his frustration, Rick took a deep breath and began to read.

_Richard,_

_I believe the first thing I should say is, please, don't be upset with your mother. Martha is a spectacular woman, and I know for a fact that she loves you very much. What happened between her and I is entirely my fault. I was an ass for allowing myself to hurt her as I did. All I can ask is that you allow me to explain, as best I can._

All Rick could do to keep himself together was pause. Kate could see the tension in his face, and did the only thing she could think of. She took her hand off of her lap and placed it on his shoulder. She felt him let out a breath. Waiting for him to keep reading.

_I don't know if Martha's told you anything, but we met in the summer of 1970. What a summer it was! I had seen her in a show on Broadway and became absolutely enamored with her. She was breathtaking. I even pulled the secret admirer card and sent her a ridiculous amount of flowers and told her. I waited for her after the show and took her to dinner. Obviously, our date turned into much more. I can't speak for her, but those were the most romantic months of my life. _

_It's true that I was engaged at the time. To the woman who is now my wife. The two of us were arranged to be married when we were too young to know what was being said. I hated the prospect, and so, I fled and went to New York. After meeting Martha, well, I tried everything I could to stop the wedding, but I was told that I would be completely disowned. I just couldn't bare the thought of putting my family through such shame, and I hated myself for pulling Martha into my life in such a way. The only solution I could think of was to leave, and save her from myself. _

_The night I told her I was leaving was the night she told me she was pregnant with you. And I just let her walk out and leave. The first time I heard from her after that was on your birthday. April 1, 1971. Well, I suppose it was shortly after that, but that was when she wrote the letter. For years she wrote me letters on your birthday. Just telling me about you. About your books, Alexis. I could never bring myself to write back. _

_I'm sure by know you're wondering why I'm writing now. I really don't have a good answer for you. The honest truth is that my wife found Martha's most recent letter and gave me an ultimatum. She told me that I needed to do something, and if I didn't, she would. The least I could do was save you from having to deal with her. Just imagine an English Gina. _

_All I can say to you Richard is that I am truly sorry for everything I've done. I should have never put your mother in such a position, and I should have had the decency to be responsible and help, or respond to her letters. But from what I've read you are more than she could have ever asked for. She tells me everything about you. She says you are a fantastic novelist – even sent me one of your novels, Flowers For Your Grave. I must say you are gifted. _

_She's also told me about Alexis. I'm glad to know that you're a better father than I. She sounds like a wonderful girl. There's not a doubt in my mind that she will follow in her father's footsteps and do great things. _

After stealing a glance at the next lines, Rick let out a small laugh before continuing.

_I know that you've been following a Detective Beckett around, as well. Your mother seems to think that she's been a good influence on you. And I'm sure she hasn't said anything to you about it, but it worries her, having you so close to danger. You have to remember that you're all she has. So, for her sake, try to be careful. _

_I don't expect much to come of this letter. I know that you've made quite a life for yourself and I have no desire to intrude on it. I can only hope that I've given you some answers, maybe some peace of mind. I'm not telling you that you should reply to this; I wouldn't be surprised if you chose not to. But even though I'm halfway around the world, and have never actually met you, I'm proud of you Richard._

_With love and regret,_

_Edward_

The air was still as Rick finished reading and dropped the letter onto the grass in front of him. The words still hadn't fully sunken in. Kate sat silent beside him. She had returned her had to its place in her lap, and was leaning against the tree again.

She was the first to break the silence.

"Here's how I see it." They both stared off into the park as she spoke. "You've made it through your whole life without him. And you did a damn fine job. Better than fine, in fact. You're a great father, Castle. Alexis is so lucky. And you're a brilliant writer. You have no idea how much your books touch people. And most importantly," with this she finally turned to look him in the eye, "you are an amazing son. Martha loves you more than anything. And, there aren't too many men out there who would offer to let their mothers move in with them, and still want to be around them. Besides, there's no way she would've written to this guy if she wasn't, in some part of her mind, looking to brag.

"And that's something that he's never going to have. A son like you. Even if you did decide to contact him, he can never be your Dad. The one who teaches you how to ride a bike or helps you with your homework."

"Come on now Beckett, do you honestly think I ever did my homework?"

Again she rolled her eyes. "My point is…he's the one who made the decision. Not you. You shouldn't beat yourself up over something that you can't change."

She reached over to where the envelope was laying. The breeze was gently blowing the ends back and forth. Once she had inspected it one last time, she refolded it, and put it back in its envelope.

"But I can't tell you what to do, Castle. Alexis can't tell you what to do, and your mother can't tell you what to do." Kate handed him the letter before standing up. She bent down, offering him her hands, and pulled him to his feet. "The only one who can make the right choice is you."

"Yea," he sighed, "I know."

"Oh, and Kate?" He asked as they reached the path.

"Yes, Castle?"

"Thanks. You know, I can usually fend for myself pretty well, but I really appreciate your help. I just…needed someone to talk to. I'm glad you could be that person."

Kate smiled at his confession, biting her lip ever so slightly. "Me too, Castle. Me too. Now, I have to get to work. I'm assuming you're not coming in today?"

The nod of his head answered her question. "But give me a call if you need to talk again. Unless we get a case I should be off at five."

"Sounds good. And I mean it." Before Kate knew it she was wrapped in a hug.

"Thanks."

"No problem," she said pulling out of his grip, "I'll give you a call later. See how things are going."

Quickly the two made their final goodbyes, and turned in their respective directions to leave the park.

Kate Beckett was going to make the world a better place.

Richard Castle to make a choice.

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**Well? Tell me what you think? The next chapter should be up fairly quickly. Yay! Thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing!**

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	10. Closure

_**May 13, 2010 continued**_

Rick Castle walked into his apartment, only to be slammed backwards by his daughter. The moment she saw him come through the door Alexis flew from her place on the couch and ran full speed into him, wrapping her arms around his middle.

"Hey there, Pumpkin." Rick carefully hugged her closer to him, concerned with her sudden urge to be held. "What's up?" He asked as gently as possible.

"Oh my gosh, Dad! Gram told me. I, I don't know what to say. I can't imagine what you're thinking right now. I'm-"

Quickly Rick decided to interrupt her little rant.

"Alexis calm down. I'm fine. Really."

Alexis Castle peered up, still with her chin buried in his chest, and looked at her father. He certainly didn't look fine. But as everyone knew, there was very little, if any, arguing with him.

"Are you sure Dad? I mean, I had plans with Paige to go to the movies, but I can cancel and stay here and hang out with you if you want."

"Lex, that is absolutely the last thing I want. Go out and have fun. You do not need to worry about me. I'm a big boy."

She sighed and broke away from his hold on her. He probably didn't realize it, but Rick had her in quite a hug. Sure, Alexis thought, he was perfectly fine.

"Alright then. I'm going to go grab my bag and head out." Moving toe-to-toe with her father, Alexis stood up on her toes, and rested one hand on his shoulder. The other, she rose to wag in his face. "But you better call me if you need me. I mean it!"

With reluctant force Rick pushed her back down to the floor, and bent in just as close as she had gotten, gripping her face with his hands.

"If I need you I will call you," he planted a kiss on her hairline, "I swear on my collection of books regarding a certain British spy." He flashed her a grin before pushing her towards the door.

"Now go! Tell Paige I said 'hello'."

Rick watched as his daughter hesitantly left the apartment. He knew she'd be worrying about him. She'd check her cell phone for messages every five minutes for the next four hours. There was nothing he could do to convince her otherwise. She was just as stubborn as him sometimes.

Sighing, Rick turned around and saw his mother was sitting on the couch as well. Hundreds of thoughts were running through his head as he walked over and took Alexis' now vacant seat next to her.

The apartment was silent for a few moments. Mother and son simply stared, trying to gauge what the other was thinking.

Rick was the first to break the stillness.

"Mother, I really want you to know that I'm not mad at you. I can't be. And," he paused, "I think I have an understanding of what you went through." Tenderly, Rick reached out to take her hand. "I honestly don't know how you managed me after that."

Once again a lull fell over the pair.

"He said he was sorry." Pinching the corner of his mouth together, he leaned his head back, and turned to look at her again.

Martha's voice was a raspy whisper when she spoke.

"What are you going to do?"

"I think…" Rick started, "I'm going to do what I always do when I don't know what to do." He stood up from the all too comfortable couch and ran a hand over the back of his head.

"I'm gonna go write."

* * *

_**May 26, 2010**_

In the solitude of his office Edward Samuels sat. All he could think of was the envelope sitting on his desk and its contents.

This time, the return address was to one Richard Castle of New York, New York, not Martha Rogers.

This time, he refrained from pouring himself a stiff drink.

This time, he wanted to be absolutely sure of what he was reading.

His fingers seemed to be on autopilot as they reached for the edge of the paper and peeled the seal open. He removed the letter, unfolded it. He was almost afraid that his touch would shatter it into a million pieces.

Leaning back into the chair, he rubbed his thumb and forefinger over his eyes, taking one final moment for mental preparation.

The nerves sent his stomach on a roller coaster ride as he began reading.

_Edward,_

_Throughout my entire life I have waited for my father. I remember all the times I asked about him. Who he was, where he was. _

_When I was a little kid sitting back stage at her shows I would pretend that he was on an adventure in some far away country, fighting criminals or hunting animals. I used to think that he was a hero. Someone who wasn't around for me, because he was making the world a safer place for everyone. _

_As I got older, I began to put the pieces together. I knew that most other kids had fathers. And if they didn't it was usually because their parents divorced or their father died. At least those kids knew. All I knew was that I had no father, and it was because something had happened between him and my mother. Occasionally I would ask her about it. She never quite answered me one way or the other._

_So, I finally put my father behind me, and went through my high school and college years with all the confidence in the world. I was smart, and I had at least one parent there for me. I made it years without thinking about my father._

_But then I became a father. And it was the best thing that ever happened to me. The second I found out Alexis was on her way I was stuck. My daughter is the first thing I think about in the morning, and the last thing I think about at night. I couldn't imagine not being in her life. If I couldn't walk downstairs and see her face everyday I would die._

_I suppose what I'm trying to say is, I don't understand how you could have left. Left me or my mother. She is the strongest woman I know. There aren't too many women out there that would be able to travel the country acting for a living while raising a son. Sure, our life was a little hectic, and we certainly didn't live a 'normal' life, but who's to say what's normal and what's not?_

_You were absolutely right in saying that you should have been responsible. I find it offensive that you never even wrote back to her. For years. She thought she was being ignored, and yet she continued to write to you. Always with the intention that it would make a difference in __my__ life. You should have respected her enough in the first place, knowing your situation, to stay away from her. _

_But I guess that if you had, I wouldn't be sitting here, and my life would've never become so great. And that's not me being conceited. My life really is great. I have a fantastic career, an exciting position at the precinct, a perfect daughter, and an amazingly loving mother. So, in some small way, I should thank you._

_Please don't reply to this. I don't want to hear what you have to say. I don't need to hear what you have to say. Just know that I'm glad to have some answers. I've told my mother that she didn't need to keep writing you. Quite honestly I don't care if she does or not, though._

_This is not meant to sound rude, or angry. But the fact of the matter is, I'm over waiting for my father. _

_My life is just the way it's meant to be. I'm writing and working. Enjoying my time with my mother and daughter. _

_Best of luck in whatever you do,_

_Richard Castle_

Edward let out a breath he didn't know he was withholding. He placed the letter back on the desk, and turned around in his chair to look out of the window. Today was one of those rare sunny days.

He heard the door to his office and the familiar click of heels on wood. His hands brushed over his face in anticipation.

"Eddie." He heard Annalisa start, but stayed facing in this direction. He couldn't bear to look at her just yet.

"Yes." The syllable couldn't be sharper.

At the sound of his voice she let her gaze drift down to the desk in front of her. She saw the open envelope, the letter.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes." He turned back around, still avoiding her face.

With limp hands he refolded the letter, stuffed it back into its envelope, and dropped it into the bottom drawer of his desk.

"Everything is…exactly the way it should be."

* * *

_**July 27, 2010**_

Rick stepped onto the porch of his home in the Hamptons and found his mother gazing out at the water, a rather large glass of wine in her hand.

He retreated back into the house for a second glass, returned. Without saying a word he poured his own helping of the drink and sat down in the lounge chair next to her. The view tonight was fantastic. There wasn't a cloud in the sky; he could see hundreds – thousands of stars without straining his eyes. The water was smoothly lapping up against the shore.

"Do you know what today is Richard?"

He could hear the sadness in her voice. The way she tripped over the words, lingering on his name. He had opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

"No. Of course you wouldn't know."

The long sip she took from her glass allowed him enough time to actually say something. The problem was, he didn't know what to say.

"Wha-what is it?"

He mimicked her swallow when he saw she was prepared to answer him.

"Forty years ago tonight I went over to tell Edward about you. You know, those were the most agonizing hours of my life. In more ways than one." She lifted her glass in his direction before continuing. "I was so certain that he would be thrilled. That we would be happy together, maybe get married. Raise you together, be a happy family like you deserved." She paused again for another sip. "But, he had other plans, and for that Richard, I am so, so sorry."

Rick watched as his mother spoke.

"I still feel so terrible for lying to you. If I could turn back time-"

"Mother, stop it. You should be upset about it anymore. I'm not. It is what it is."

Both took the opportunity to further empty their glasses.

"The way I see it, Mother, you weren't lying to me. You were trying to protect me from something that could've really hurt me. How were you supposed to know what he would do? If he would stay silent or write back?" He saw her try and cut in, but he refused to let her. "You couldn't have known. And I get it. I really do. If it were reversed for me, I probably would've done the same thing. I mean, I wouldn't want Alexis to get her hopes up for someone who wanted nothing to do with her."

He took one final gulp and his glass was empty.

"I can't help but think it was selfish of me."

Rick swung his legs around so that he was sitting to face her.

"You were anything but selfish. You were being a good mother. Better, apparently, than you thought."

"Oh, Richard," she sighed, turning to mirror his position, "how did you ever get to be such a gentleman?"

"I honestly don't know, Mother. But I have seen plenty of examples of how not to act."

He cocked his head with a grin as she rolled her eyes. If he wasn't mistaken he heard her laugh a little too. "Yes, well, I've learned my lesson."

"You certainly did." He placed the two glasses on the deck and took her hands in his. "Chet is a really great guy, Mother." Lifting his face, he saw that she was still looking at their joined hands. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Oh, please," she stared him straight in the face, mildly offended, "what about K-"

"Hey, are you two coming inside or what?" Alexis was standing just inside the door, her head poking out to investigate where her father and grandmother had gone. "The ice cream's going to melt if you don't hurry up."

"Yea, sweetie," Rick started as he stood, "we were just coming in now.

Martha stood to lean into her son's side. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led her back into the house.

As she sat down to sundaes with her family Martha thought about her life. Everything really was perfect. At least, as perfect as it could be. Richard had gotten his answers, and even though they may not have been the answers he wanted, he took the truth for what it was and made his choice. That's exactly what it was. His choice.

She had made her's forty years ago. And now, if someone were to ask her, she'd tell them that she would do the same thing. Despite the ups and downs, she had made a pretty damn good life for herself. Contrary to popular belief, she had raised a good son. A good man. And he had gone on to do great things for himself and his family.

Yes. Martha Rogers was a woman fulfilled.

**_The End._**

* * *

**There you have it! I just want to thank all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! You all have been so helpful and supportive! This is the hardest thing I've ever written - definitely the deepest and most complicated, and I couldn't have asked for it to go better! Thanks for staying with me to the end! **

**I've got some ideas mulling around for some other fics, but no promises as to when they'll be up. My brain needs a break. But keep your eyes open! **

**Thanks again for all the fabulous support! Let me know what you think of the finale!**

**-TappinCastlefan**


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